A fairy tale they believe
by feradraco
Summary: As a child, Bertholdt adored his mother's fairy tales. But the prison's a cold and lonely place, and even when he gets a second chance from life, he has to realize again and again: tales are just tales, and there's no warmth in this miserable world. Or is there...? WARNINGS: same-sex love, transgender character, gore, body horror, strong language, major spoiler alert.
1. The fifth of us

A thin ray of sunlight came in between the iron bars of the window, a rare occasion of seeing an intruder of the outside world. He was sitting on his bed, hard and way too small for him, his chin resting on his knees, his long, slender fingers entangled in each other before his skin-and-bones legs. But now, as the ray of light shone in through the window of his underground cell, those long fingers parted and he lifted a hand to cover his face. The light was something he wasn't used to. It hurt him, piercing his eyes.

_What's your name?_

His eyes? Maybe it wasn't the light.

_Bertholdt Hoover. Bertl, for short._

Maybe it was the fact that he used to live up there. Maybe he just hated that he had had to leave that world of shining sunlight.

_How old are you? How long have you been down here?_

Or maybe he didn't even care. Did he?

_... no idea._

He'd been caged down here for so long he had already given up on living up there again. Had he ever wanted to live up there? As far as he could remember, his life before being imprisoned here in this underground hole hadn't been a life he wanted to live.

_What do you hope for?_

_Well, what do you hope for?_

He thought about all the things he had had back in his home village. His friends – no, he hadn't had friends. The older boys had been in need of someone who had been weaker than them and they'd found him. Then, his mother – she'd left him when he'd been brought here. She hadn't visited him, she hadn't sent him a letter, although it wasn't forbidden. He could've received letters from outside, though the Military Police Brigade's officers would read it first and decide whether he could have it or not. Not as if he could read, but having something having anything to do with his past life, anything that could've made him feel like he was still needed would've been the best thing he could've ever received.

Finally, his sister – what _was _her name? Whatever, it didn't matter anymore. She was dead, and that was the only thing Bertholdt knew for sure about his family.

The first few weeks (or months?) had been the worst. The very first day, a man had told him about his rights – he had almost no rights, actually – but otherwise he had been left alone to get used to his new environment, but the next day, _that person_ had paid him a visit. And even after that, that person – was he a man or a woman? He couldn't tell – had come by every day, talking to him, touching him, their eyes scanning him without a rest.

When that person had stopped visiting him, he hadn't missed them. He had slowly gotten used to being alone, learnt to enjoy his own company. He had kind of started to like his situation.

_Who are you trying to conceive? You hate it._

Right, he hated it all. He hated the cold, the starving, the loneliness, the helplessness, the stares and mean jokes people would give him every once and then, he hated that he couldn't stand up anymore for his legs were too weak now to carry his weight, that his body seemed to be changing day by day and he didn't know why or what was happening to him.

But most of all, Bertholdt hated himself. He hated what he looked like, what he was like as a person, he hated what he was.

_What am I in the first place?_

Whatever he was, he hated himself for being it. He'd tried to forget it, but he couldn't. Not after he'd heard what people kept calling him, not with the heavy iron collar on his neck, padded on the inside, reminding him that no matter what happens, he can't bleed.

_If I bleed, I'll lose control again. If I bleed, I'll kill people again. If I bleed, I'll be killed._

Bertholdt remembered this day by day, and somehow every day the thought of being killed sounded a little bit nicer. He could just die, and all his problems would disappear. He wouldn't cause trouble ever again. That person probably even knew how he could be killed. But that person had stopped visiting him long ago; apparently they had forgotten about him.

He let his hand fall to his side, and let his head fall back. He was too tired, hungry and abandoned to keep on thinking about things like this. Instead, he curled up on the hard bed, turning his back at the light. He didn't need a reminder that he'll probably never see that kingdom of warm sunlight again.

* * *

By the time he woke up, it was already getting dark outside. As he knelt up, through the window's iron bars he could see the paving stones of the street above him turning into a warm reddish orange, the colour of twilight. It was a softer light than the one he'd seen sooner that day, it didn't hurt his eyes at all. Small, black birds were gathered in small groups, looking for some food to pick out from the gaps between the paving stones.

Bertholdt looked down. Twice a day, someone from the death row was sent to him to give him food – dry bread and some water, but for some reason Bertholdt had the feeling they wouldn't be surprised if one day the prisoner currently feeding him didn't come out of his cell alive. One of them had even asked him to kill him before he's sent to the gallows, saying he'd rather end up in a monster's stomach in an underground prison than being executed publicly. It had been the first and so far the last time Bertholdt had been called a monster, now that he thought about it. At least he had a vague idea of what he might have been.

As expected, his daily portion was there, thrown beside his bed. The bread was almost as hard as a piece of rock and half the water was gone, probably drunk on the way here. He hesitated for a moment, but his growling stomach soon reminded him that he was in fact hungry.

He ate slowly, trying to bite pieces off the bread. He could've put it in water and wait for it to get softer, but he didn't want to waste any of his water. He never knew when another rain would come and it would've been a miserable death to die from thirst. Soon, he had to give up. The piece of rock-hard bread could've been used to kill someone but it wasn't edible at all. Instead, he collected the crumbles that fell on his dirty, worn shirt, kneeling up again and placed them upon the paving stones. The group of black birds noticed it immediately, aiming for the crumbles of bread with small jumps, and tweeting happily as they picked them up and swallowed joyfully. Bertholdt lips curled up into a half smile. He reached out a hand. It scared the birds at first, most of them jumped back a few inches, but soon their curiosity took over and they came closer, until one of them finally leapt onto his large palm. It looked straight up at him, tilting its head as if asking, "What now?"

_At least you're not afraid of me._

Bertholdt pulled back his hand, carefully, and caressed the bird's tiny, soft head with a thumb. The bird pulled its head away at first, but realized it was safe and let the man pet it, tweeting curiously every once and then.

_Yeah, animals have never been afraid of me._

He reached out again, letting the bird leap back into the dim light. The feathers on its wings flashed in the last rays of sunlight. Bertholdt wondered what it could be like to have those wings. He wouldn't have to stay here, waiting for a miracle that he knows will never come. He recalled an old tale his mother had once told him about a prince whose uncle made him wings so that he could fly to the girl he loved. But Bertholdt was no prince, he didn't have a mage uncle, and he knew no girl would ever wait for him outside. No matter how many tales he could remember, they wouldn't help him. Fairy tales were just fairy tales, made for children's entertainment. Reality was a much more miserable and empty place. He leaned his back against the cold wall, staring at the floor, watching as the light slowly faded into darkness as night fell on the town outside.

* * *

Lance Corporal Rivaille Ackerman had always been dreaming about killing every single titan on this earth, although he had never had the chance. For most people around him, titans were merely the creatures of fairy tales, not a real, everyday threat. It had been a great success itself that nearly ten years ago he managed to capture a titan alive, even though he couldn't have gotten the permission to get rid of it. On one hand, the mere existence of that titan irritated him, on the other hand, not killing it gave his best friend and colleague Hanji Zoe the chance to finally study and examine a real living titan – although soon his experiments had been aborted due to his series of failures. Commander Erwin Smith denied that the captured boy would in fact be a titan and simply reported that Bertholdt Hoover (age 12) was sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison for killing a girl (age 14). Hanji's security suggestions had been still accepted, but in the official report, there was not a single word about titans.

Five years ago, they had gotten a second chance to study titans with the help of Ilse Langnar, probably the most enthusiastic member of the Special Titan Research Squad ever. However, Langnar had been killed, and there had been a wicked fight with the government and Commander Smith to keep on doing the titan experiments. For a few weeks, it looked like all the squad would end here, but somehow they could convince Commander that it was worth to kill some more money, time and energy into researching titans.

And now, in 855, the chance to prove they had been right finally came with an alert. Moblit Berner, Hanji's assistant (also secret admirer) burst into the squad's tiny office, panting.

"Titan detected less than a mile from the town!"

Rivaille almost threw his cup of tea to the table before him. "Petra, Auluo, Günther, Eldo, we're going out!"

The petite blonde looked up at him with deep, dark circles under her eyes. "But, Lance Corporal, it's almost seven…"

"Our shift would've been over at least an hour ago," the young man on her right – despite his wrinkles, he was barely nineteen – murmured, irritated.

The tall blond on the opposite side of the table snorted. "You can have your honeymoon later with her. You didn't come here to get a wife, did you?"

"You told them?!" Petra sent Auluo an angry glare.

"Get your gears and let's go," Rivaille cut the argument off, opening the huge wardrobe in one corner of the office. Their gears were still at an experimental state, but they passed their first tests without many accidents, most of what had been Auluo biting his tongue while throwing nasty pick-up lines at Petra. The four researchers had spent their past three years learning to use the gear, and so Rivaille trusted their skills; he believed in their in-action success.

Tonight he'd prove he hadn't done all his work in vain. Tonight he'd prove he had been right.

_Maybe it's _that_ titan._

The memory of a titan slaughtering his family was still vivid in his head. He saw its face every night before falling asleep, it haunted him day by day, and so did the fear he had felt as he had crawled under his brother's torn corpse so that at least he could've stayed alive. He lived with that fear, and by now, that fear was the only thing that kept him going

By the time they left the town on their horses, it was already dark outside, they had to bring lanterns tied to their saddles. Rivaille had the feeling they were late, the titan was probably too far away by now. Just before he could give the order to retreat, Günther shouted back to him.

"I can see it, Corporal!"

A few seconds later, Rivaille saw it as well, a slender figure of about forty-fifty feet right before them.

"Everyone, go for the target!"

"Corporal, are you sure we should fight it?" Auluo asked, concerned.

"I believe we can fight it."

He really believed they could do it. He trusted his team's intuitions and skill, and he was sure the five of them could take it down.

He pulled the trigger of his gear and leapt into the air, a strong wire of steel pulling him in the direction of the titan, and he saw his comrades doing the same, all of them aiming for the neck of their target.

He really did believe in their success – but then he saw a flash of freezing blue eyes above them, and heard Petra's scream.

* * *

Bertholdt was half asleep when he first heard the noise, as if someone was trying to force the door of his cell open. It was a thick hardwood door with at least a dozen of heavy locks. Bertholdt didn't know why or who wanted to open it up so violently, but there was something about it that made him upset. Something was happening outside and it probably had something to do with him – he felt it in his guts. He leaned back against the wall, his eyes never leaving the door and he stayed dead silent. His heart was racing crazily in his chest, his fingers were shaking. Whatever was happening probably had something to do with him, and he was afraid what it might be.

The locks finally gave up and the heavy door swung open. Two men entered his cell panting, as if they'd been running straight for hours. The taller one shut the door closed again immediately while the other one let his legs collapse, and took in deep, slow breaths to calm himself.

There were a few minutes of perfect silence, and then the shorter man gave a sigh in relief and said, "Finally. They lost track of us," and laughed. He had a deep, calm, pleasant voice, like the touch of silk.

"Fucking bastards."

"It was hot, huh?" the tall one laughed as well, and as he turned around, the gaze of his golden eyes met Bertholdt's. The air froze between them.

The man was really tall, probably taller than Bertholdt – he couldn't tell since he didn't even know how tall he himself was – and his physical strength was obvious even in the dark. His face was mostly covered by the hood of his coat and a dark piece of cloth that only left his eyes free. His sight terrified Bertholdt, but far less than the shorter man, wearing similar clothing. In his brown eyes, there was something that made Bertholdt feel like he can trust him, and yet at the same time he wished he never saw this man.

"What?" he asked, his eyes following his companion's and finding Bertholdt. "Shit."

"Looks like we have an unwanted witness."

Bertholdt flinched. All these years spent imprisoned, he'd been waiting for someone to finally kill him and let it all end – yet now that he got the chance, he realized he didn't really want to die.

For the first time since waking up with the long chain on his neck, he wanted to speak, to beg for his life, but the moment he opened his mouth, he had to remember it was another thing he was incapable of.

The shorter man gave an annoyed sigh as he stood, almost kicking the bucket that was given to Bertholdt to defecate and urinate in. Despite his small figure, he had a surprisingly intimidating air as he stood above the prisoner.

"Who are you, kid?"

_Bertholdt Hoover. Say it._

"Just kill him and let's go."

Bertholdt pressed his back against the wall behind him, trying to get as far from the short man as he could. His dark eyes were freezing him to his bones; they gave the impression of someone who'd never hesitated to kill.

Those calm, cold eyes studied him thoroughly, not missing a detail even in the dark of the night. They rested for about a minute on the collar on Bertholdt's neck before he turned to his companion.

"Reiner, gag him."

The man with the golden eyes stepped closer, and forced the end of his coat in Bertholdt's mouth, right before the shorter one grabbed his hand and broke his wrist with a loud crack.

Bertholdt wanted to scream as pain ran over his hand. It had been a long time since the last time he had felt pain, and he didn't remember how intense it could be. Tears ran down his face. He didn't even notice when the short man let go of his hand, but suddenly he could feel the pain easing, each broken bone of his wrist moving back to its place. His eyes went wide as he moved his hand without the faintest pain. There was not even the smallest sign of the man's strong fingers on his wrist. It was as perfectly healed as if it had never been broken.

"So it's you." The short man's eyes softened. He nodded to his companion, and the tall man let go of Bertholdt. He pulled down the piece of cloth covering his mouth and took off his coat, offering it to Bertholdt. It was made of some kind of rough fabric, but it was nice and warm. "I'm Berik, and this is my friend Reiner. What's your name?"

"Be-Bertholdt Hoover." Bertholdt had no idea how he managed to finally say his name. But what surprised him the most was the voice he heard – it was low and deep, and he would've sworn to anything that it wasn't his voice.

"Nice to meet you." Berik smiled at him. His face was just as pleasing yet terrifying as his voice: dark hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of his head, slightly high cheekbones and pale skin. He offered a hand, and as Bertholdt shook it, that pale skin of Berik's felt hot and strange to the touch. It wasn't like human skin at all. He turned to Reiner. "We found him."

Reiner raised his eyebrows as he took a look at the skinny, pathetic figure sitting on the bed with a long chain hanging from his neck. "This cripple?"

"The gods know for how long he's been here." Berik grabbed the iron collar around Bertholdt's neck, closing his eyes in concentration. The metal gave in within a few seconds, falling to the bed broken. "Of course you'll have some work with him, but I'm sure it'll worth the effort."

"We?"

"Can't you hear it?"

Reiner froze, and his eyes went wide. "They're here," he whispered, and soon Bertholdt heard the sound of people running. It was barely audible, but the sound of footsteps was coming closer with every second.

"You must go without me."

"Wait, what?" Reiner interrupted. "I won't leave you here."

"Reiner, we don't have time to argue! Take him out of here. Can you stand up?" Berik asked Bertholdt. Bertholdt shook his head, pulling his legs under himself. He didn't want to see them.

"Then Reiner will carry you."

Reiner inhaled and then gave a deep sigh. "Okay. But don't die."

Berik said nothing but gave them last smile and stepped out of the door, cutting his hand with a knife he pulled out of his boots. He didn't even flinch.

Reiner grabbed Bertholdt's neck and threw him on his shoulders. Bertholdt reached out in the very last moment, his fingers closing around a small piece of fabric. He closed his eyes, holding onto Reiner's back and tried to ignore the sound of people shouting and screaming from the direction Berik headed off to.

Reiner suddenly turned sharp to the right and threw him in a hole – it was probably some kind of a sewer, judging by the smell. Bertholdt fell right into the water; it was cold and wet, one feeling he knew well, another one he did not.

He wiped his face with a disgusted grimace as Reiner landed next to him.

"I can ensure you it still smells better than you," Reiner spat and Bertholdt knew he was right. He picked him up again, running in the knee-deep sewer water. They lost Berik's coat somewhere halfway, but Bertholdt made sure he was still holding on to the piece of fabric he'd brought from his cell.

He didn't know for how long Reiner was running with him. His sense of time was long gone, but suddenly Reiner stopped, pushed a manhole cover off to the streets above them and helped him crawl out, then followed him.

"We're not far,' he said shortly, then picked him up again. This time he didn't run.

The moon was shining above them as bright as Bertholdt hadn't seen it shine for a very, very long time. It coated the houses around them in silver, making everything look beautiful. The light illuminated every small detail around him, giving them another, much deeper meaning. Or so at least it seemed like that to Bertholdt.

"Pretend you're knocked out," Reiner hissed after a few minutes, and took off his hood and the piece of cloth from before his mouth. Bertholdt didn't have any time to study his face, he hung his head and closed his eyes.

"What're you doin' on the streets so late?" a harsh voice asked.

"You see, my friend drank a bit more than he could take," Reiner replied, laughing. "I'm just taking him home."

"Just hurry up. Haven't you heard 'bout that titan runnin' up and down 'round here?"

"Don't you think if a titan came here to eat it'd pick someone a bit less stinkin' than the two of us?"

"You're right. Anyways, go home as fast as you can."

As soon as the soldier's footsteps' sound could not be heard anymore, Bertholdt squinted up at Reiner's face, but all he could see was his short blonde hair illuminated by the moonlight.

It was the one and only time they were stopped on their way. A few minutes – or hours, Bertholdt couldn't tell – later, Reiner entered a five-floor house and didn't stop until the third floor. He turned left, opened a door and turned the key in the lock behind them. He sat him down on the floor and told him to wait.

"You still stink like shit," he stated, "You need to have a bath first."

Bertholdt smelled his sleeve. It was piercing his nose even though he was used to the stink of his own sweat, urine and faeces. He grimaced.

His eyes hurt as Reiner lit some light. The apartment he was in was a nice little two-roomed one, small but all-in-all comfortable. He was in the first room, the one right behind the front door. Reiner left and soon returned with a wooden tub full of warm water.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered him. "And you better forget them. We'll get new for you."

Bertholdt looked at him. Reiner's face was not exactly how he had imagined it: his eyes were narrow and unfriendly, his eyebrows had a mean curve that made him feel uncomfortable, and his jaw was square. Bertholdt looked away, blushing.

"Man, don't be so prude! You piss me off. I've seen naked men. Just undress and get your ass in the water already."

Bertholdt blinked embarrassed and took off all his thin, worn clothes, revealing his clearly visible ribs under his once-tanned skin. He felt Reiner's burning gaze on his back as he crawled into the tub, his fingers still tight around the piece of fabric.

"... Hey. Do you... do you need help?"

Bertl hesitated for a moment. Why should he care about his pride? It didn't exist anymore. He nodded. "Uh-huh."

The blonde man's hands were rough and strong, he helped Bertholdt wash himself with merciless harshness, but when they were finished, it felt as good as Bertl had never felt for a very, very long time.

"Take this," Reiner gave him a shirt. "It'll probably be a bit big for you, but that's all I can offer you right now."

Bertholdt put the shirt on. It was too loose, yet too short at the same time. "Y-yours?" he forced himself to ask.

"Yeah. But if you don't like it, I can give you Annie's favourite skirt."

Bertholdt didn't dare to ask who Annie was, so he just nodded and looked around for a place he could sleep at. In one corner of the room, there were three temporary beds made of thick blankets and thin pillows.

"The one on the middle is yours," Reiner declared as he saw Bertholdt was looking at the beds. "You said your name is...?"

"Bertholdt Hoover." These were his first words in years, and it felt like the more he said them, the more confident he became about speaking. He gained all his remaining strength to pull himself into his indicated bed. It wasn't a real bed, but it was soft and it kept him warm, and that was more than enough for him.

"Okay. Our hostess is also our brick in the military, I'll ask her to run a background check on you at the Special Titan Research Squad's data. Uh, it's, you know, that small department of the military that's been searching for us."

Reiner looked at Bertholdt, and raised an eyebrow at his confused glare. "You really don't know what we are?" Bertholdt shook his head, dropping his eyes. "Well... Some call us beasts, some call us monsters... we prefer the expression 'titan'."

Bertholdt felt a bit scared yet relieved. He had heard tales about titans and of course, it scared him to know that he might be one of them, but at least he had an idea about what he was.

_Titan. I am a _titan, he thought, trying to form the word with his lips, as if tasting some kind of a strange new food he'd never known before. Knowing a word and knowing it was an expression describing him was two different things.

"It's not as terrible as you might think it is. But anyways, it's late," Reiner picked him up again. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day, you better have some rest."

Bertholdt curled up under the blanket, pulling it up to his nose. He had missed this feeling, having a warm place for himself and being taken care of, even though he could still feel Reiner's disapproval. After all, he was the reason his friend had been left behind.

Reiner's weight hit the guest bed next to him hard. He turned his broad back to Bertholdt, murmuring "If it was up to me, you'd still be rotting down there."

Bertholdt sniffed. His relief now turned into self-despise. Berik might have even died for him, a useless piece of shit. It hurt him inside. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to do whatever he could've just to bring Berik home safe.

"Whatever," Reiner sighed. "Berik made his decision. All you can do now is trying to be worth his sacrifice."

Bertholdt buried his face in the pillow to hide his tears. A heavy, warm hand squeezed his skinny shoulder.

"Hey," Reiner said quietly, with a hint of feeling sorry in his deep, strong voice. "Don't cry. Have a long sleep, and tomorrow everything's gonna be alright."

Bertholdt inhaled deeply, wiped his tears and tried to calm down. Reiner was right. There still might be something he could do to make everything right. Everything was going to be okay. Soon, he was already having his deepest and calmest sleep he had had in years.


	2. Wounded animal

Bertholdt had already forgotten what it was like to have a sleep this long and peaceful. No nightmares or noises or unwanted visitors disturbed him, and as he woke up, for a moment he just didn't want to open his eyes. What if he found himself back in that tiny underground cell? What if he had gone crazy without realizing and yesterday had been just another fever dream? At the same time, he felt like it'd be actually nice if it had been just a dream. Someone had risked his life for him, was it right? What more, that someone might have died for him. Bertholdt was sure he wasn't worth that much. He couldn't get rid of these bothering thoughts even though he felt the warmth of the thick blanket covering him, and he heard muffled voices, the sounds of a conversation.

"And does she know it?"

Bertholdt recognized the voice. It was tired and calm now, but there was no doubt it was the big blond man from yesterday. What was his name, Rei… Rei…

"Not yet. But I'm already planning on coming out to her. I didn't want to keep it a secret forever. She has the right to know."

The other voice was that of a woman, deep and low. Bertholdt didn't know this voice.

"So you just married her without telling her a thing about it?" It was Reiner again.

"I told you I want to come out."

At this point, something small and warm touched Bertholdt's face and he heard another female voice. This one sounded bored and its calmness came with a terrifying shade. He flinched.

"Hey, Ymir! Is this thing even alive?"

"Annie, back off."

Bertholdt slowly opened his eyes. It was light in here, and the light was burning his eyes. He gathered all his strength to sit up, his eyes still narrowed, but only after he got used to the light could he take a long, thorough look around. The room he was in didn't look that much different in daylight, maybe it just seemed a little bigger. The first furniture he saw was a huge chest beside the wall, and above that, a cupboard with figures of animals and exotic trees carved onto it. The other door he'd seen yesterday seemed to be firmly closed.

Bertholdt looked around once again to see his company. Opposing the chest stood a table, with Reiner and a woman sitting around it. Reiner, right, that was his name. He seemed even bigger in the daylight, bigger and more tired with his half-closed eyes and messy hair. The woman on his side looked almost tiny compared to him. She had her dark hair in a loose ponytail at the back of her neck, her white shirt was bright against her dark skin. Her tight pants highlighted the shape of her thighs and round hips as she crossed her legs, her full lips revealed her teeth in a warm smile as she greeted Bertholdt.

"Morning, big boy." Her voice was soft, making Bertholdt feel safe without having to say any more. "How was your sleep?"

"So it _is _alive." The intimidating voice belonged to the girl standing behind Bertholdt. She didn't seem as slim as the one with the dark skin – she was rather short but that was all Bertholdt could tell since her baggy shirt and pants didn't let him see any more of her figure. Her skin was pale, her half-long hair fell on her shoulders like a golden stream. Her bright red lips were firmly closed, but the most characteristic parts of her face – beside her slightly crooked nose – were her eyes, cold and blue like an icy lake.

"Annie!" the other woman hissed, standing and poking Reiner's shoulder as she passed by him. "Come on, help me get him up."

"Ehh… okay."

It was rather Bertholdt's height than his weight that took the two of them helping him onto the last free chair beside the table. He hadn't realized before how much he'd grown in the past years – now that he compared himself to Reiner again, he was almost sure the other man seemed so big only because of his physic.

_Maybe I'm actually taller than him._

"Man, you _are_ a large one!" the tanned woman laughed as she took her seat again. She signed to the blonde girl. "Annie, there's a bottle at the door, give us a drink."

The blonde just hummed once, but then did what she was told.

"So," the tanned woman turned to Bertholdt again, "let's get down to business. Don't get it wrong, I'd love to get to know you better, we just simply don't have that much time."

"You didn't _have _to wait for him to wake up," the blonde called Annie noted.

"Shut up. So, you already know this huge guy Reiner Braun over here, right?" the brunette went on. "My name's Ymir, and she's Annie, Annie Leonhardt. The four of us are the last known titans alive."

"Wait… four?" Reiner looked up, suddenly becoming fully awake. "You said he was just late."

"Has Berik ever been late?" Ymir shot back in a dead voice. She cleared her throat. "Berik died last night."

Reiner's eyes went wide, but he seemingly couldn't get himself to say anything.

"Lance Corporal Ackerman?" Annie asked, placing a clay mug before Bertholdt.

"No, I killed him. Or, to put it more accurately, I was ordered to kill him." Ymir sat back, sweeping her hair away from her face. "The good part of the story is that he chewed off Commander Smith's arm before he got captured. Also, by obeying this order I kind of confirmed my loyalty for the Survey Corps and—"

"To the point," Reiner cut her off, suddenly a lot grumpier than before.

"I'll get promoted, and I'll get more information for you. Happy? The bad part is that it was for nothing. Now that Berik's dead, I'll quit this shit you call our 'titan band'. I've never been a full member of this team, and I never will be. My secrets he could blackmail me with died with him."

"Blackmail?" Reiner snorted. "Nonsense."

Annie sighed, leaning against the wall behind Reiner. "We could tell you tales of him you'd never believe, Reiner."

Bertholdt wasn't paying any attention by now. Apparently, someone had actually died for him. Him, a useless pile of bones and skin. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to stay calm, and swallowed.

"Hey, kid," Ymir's voice pulled him back to reality. "Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"Listen, it's not your fault." Ymir gently squeezed his arm. "We all did our best in a fucked-up mission that had no chance of ending well. Someone had to die, and it was either him or the rest of us. Don't blame yourself."

Bertholdt looked up at her, his eyes meeting Ymir's for the very first time. Her eyes were those of a warm amber colour – he'd only seen once eyes of that colour.

"It's okay," Ymir said, squeezing his arm once again. "But now, let's just hurry up a bit. We'll need to work on your appearance and make up a background story." She leaned down, picking up a bottle of some kind of a white liquid, and poured some of its content to each of the mugs on the table. She took a sip of hers. "I've got your data in the morning from the Survey Corps and read it all. It said you're from a small eastern mountain village, but look at this," she placed her forearm next to Bertholdt's, "you're pale now, but seems like your skin was originally olive like mine. Also, with this dark hair, it's easier to tell everyone you're southern. So you're a guy from a small village near… uhm, Shiganshina. Your name is… Any idea?"

"Once I knew a southern guy," Annie said. "His name was Dick."

"Shut up, Annie."

"How about Anthony?" Reiner suggested. His voice was low, and he didn't look at Bertholdt. "Anthony Dieter?"

"That doesn't sound bad." Ymir shrugged. "According to the original story Berik made up, these two are siblings, Angela and Karl Welter. I use my original name and I'm not a part of this story. Berik was Annie's fiancé, that's the role you'll get now. I got crutches for you, I expected your legs wouldn't be in a condition to just run up and down all over the country. You'll say your legs were badly injured a few days ago in an accident. Your horse broke its leg on a trip, and fell on you. Right foreleg. It was a young stallion, his name was Clyde. You're on your way to a famous southern doctor, Doctor Jaeger. If anyone asks, you don't know his son, you've only heard of him, but never actually met him. Ah, and you're a silent guy, not much of a speaker. Let me know if it's too much and you want me to tell it all again."

Bertholdt nodded, signing with a raised thumb.

"He can't talk?" Annie asked, somewhat surprised.

"Nope." Ymir shook her head. "He was young when he had the accident that triggered him and revealed what he is. His regenerating wasn't perfect back then. The record said he became incapable of saying a single word."

"Wasn't perfect? What the fuck?" Annie furrowed her brows.

"Yeah, I'm sure even you have scars from your childhood," Reiner answered her, shrugging, and took a sip from his mug. "It takes time for your body to fully change. But I'm pretty sure he did tell me his name yesterday."

Ymir was thinking for a moment. "Maybe he can be taught to speak again. I don't know. You should try it."

"I see." Reiner nodded. "But what's more important right now, who's this doctor Jaeger exactly?"

"I was in the same training squad with his son. He lives in Shiganshina and is said to be one of the greatest doctors who've ever lived."

"So we're going to Shiganshina?"

"No, but you have to tell everyone you are," Ymir explained. "I got you a ride to the port, and you'll take a boat and take off at Trost. Your horses are waiting there, right? You'll get into the woods and train this boy. When he's ready, but only then, you'll move to Jinae. Friendly town with nice people. No one will ask you why you go there."

Silence fell on them, no one asking a single question, just waiting for the others to say something. Finally, Ymir poked Bertholdt's shoulder.

"Hey, Bertl – is it okay if I call you Bertl? – you haven't drank anything."

Bertholdt didn't even notice he was hungry. He had gotten used to starving, and so he didn't feel the need to eat every day. It actually surprised him that Ymir offered him a breakfast. He smelled the mug's content – it almost felt like he knew this smell. No, he was sure he knew it. He took a careful sip. It was sweet yet somewhat salty at the same time.

_Goat milk._

Now he remembered – he loved it as a child. His mother had kept goats to make a living, and Bertholdt would help her out sometimes together with his sister.

_I was careless, and accidentally dipped the bucket once. I was soaking wet of milk, and she laughed as she got me clean clothes. Mom had to bring water from the stream by the village to wash it from my hair. _

The memory almost made him smile. He took another sip, long and sweet.

"So? You like it?" Ymir studied his face with excitement. "Rarely do I get goat milk here, and my, uh, my wife likes it too. So I bought two bottles."

Bertholdt looked up at her, letting himself smile a little bit before returning to his drink. Ymir grinned.

"Guess you do like it."

"Yeah, it's great, but what if we focused on the real deal?" Reiner gave a deep, annoyed sigh. "We'll need to shave this guy, get him new clothes, a new haircut and wash him. I tried to wash him last night but smells like I didn't fully succeed..."

"Wait, you washed him?" Ymir cut him off. "In my tub?"

"Yeah."

"Reiner, what was the first thing I told you the moment you arrived here? Not to enter my fucking room!"

"Shh, little girl. Right now, I live in this house, too. I can go to wherever I want to."

Ymir inhaled deeply to calm her nerves more or less. "You are my guest here. I can throw you out anytime I want if you don't respect my private life."

Reiner narrowed his cold golden brown eyes. "What's the big deal about a room? Are you hiding something, Ymir?"

"Yes, yes I am. I am hiding you. The young Mrs Lenz is sleeping in my room and if she sees you, I don't know how I'll explain why you're here."

"You said you wanted to come out," Annie noted. "It'd be a great chance. Want me to help?"

Ymir turned around on her chair, her amber eyes flashing with anger. She pointed a finger at the titan girl.

"You," she hissed with her teeth gritted. "You have no right to speak here. If you think I don't know what you and Berik have been doing, well, sweetheart, you're wrong!"

Annie's lips trembled. "You're… disgusting. Mind your own business and don't talk about stuff you don't know shit about."

"I know more than you believe."

For a moment, Bertholdt thought Annie would punch Ymir in the face, then he thought she'd burst out in tears, but none of these happened. Instead, she let her hands fall to her sides, and spat "Grow a fucking spine," as she left, shutting the door close behind her with a loud bang.

A long, heavy silence fell on them. Finally, Ymir stood and headed towards the door.

"I'll go after her."

"Leave her alone, she started this shit."

"I have the feeling she's about to do something stupid."

The very moment the door closed behind Ymir, Reiner sat back, letting his head fall back.

"I didn't want to say this when we had company, but don't believe I trust you or anything. They had to find out somehow where our weak spot is, and you're the only titan they've ever captured as far as we know. What more, you have no idea how much Berik meant to us – or at least to me. And if it turns out you clearly are the reason he died and we're endangered because of you, well, I won't hold myself back."

Bertholdt didn't react. If wanted to see his situation in an optimistic way, there was nobody around him who trusted him or whom he could've trusted.

_Good thing I'm used to it,_ he told himself sarcastically.

Bertholdt could still remember the last person who'd seemed to trust him. He hadn't really known her, but the young soldier had been interested in him. They had only met for one or two times, and even then the iron bars on his window stood between them. The day they had first seen each other, she'd dropped her notebook and it had fallen straight down to Bertholdt. He'd given it back, barely paying her any attention. A few days later, she'd come that way again, but this time, it had been already dark outside. She had told him about things he'd refused to believe – bringing him out, giving him a second chance – and hadn't watched out. The next morning, her corpse had been found on Bertholdt's bed with her throat cut open and her pants torn off. He hadn't even had the chance to tell anyone he hadn't done anything.

_She wanted to help me._

He'd spent that night cutting off the small crest with the wings from the girl's military jacket with the knife that'd put an end to her life. He didn't want to forget her. He didn't want to forget the way she smiled at him, and he didn't want to forget her once sparkling eyes staring at him dead like broken taws all night.

Then it suddenly hit him.

The patch with the crossed wings. Where was it?

As far as he could recall, he'd stuffed it under his pillow, but he couldn't just stand up and walk there. Even if he had been capable of using his legs, what would Reiner do to him if he found out Bertholdt had been hiding a military patch after all that had happened last night? Right now, the best he could do was hoping that no one would find it while they were here and that Ymir won't tell about it to anyone when she finds it after they've left.

_Guess I'm in some deep shit. Not even a day after I left that hole. Nice job, Bertholdt._

But still, it all kind of surprised him. He thought if there really were just the four of them left alive, titans would either make a small but strong community or hide individually on their own. These people clearly hated or at least disliked each other, making it unclear why they were still together. Maybe Berik forced them into this team? Something told Bertholdt that wasn't impossible. He'd heard the saying "you can't put two titans in the same room," but he didn't know how much he could relate to it. It was just a saying created and used by people who'd probably never seen actual titans, after all.

Just thinking about it brought up so many questions it gave him a headache. He needed to stay patient. If he won't get himself killed soon, all his questions should be answered.

_Yeah. I could wait for the goddesses know how many years to get out into sunlight again. I can wait a few more months until I learn to speak and ask them about everything I want to know._

Reiner poked his forehead. Bertholdt flinched as the touch pulled him back to reality.

"Hey, are you here?" Bertholdt didn't even notice the big blond stand right next to him. "The girls probably won't some back soon. Having a session or some shit, I don't know and don't even care. Ymir said we need to shave you, right?"

Bertholdt nodded, not sure what he should do. He'd never shaved himself, twice a year a man had been sent to him to do so.

"Listen, I'll cut your neck, but only so that you won't be able to transform, okay? It's gonna be uncomfortable, but at least safe."

* * *

"Do you think these will be good enough for him?" Ymir ran a hand over the bunch of clothes wrapped in brown paper she was holding.

"Don't know, don't care. I wouldn't be here if I knew you only wanted to buy him stuff," Annie grunted.

They had been visiting tailor shops, one after another until in the fourth one they found clothes big enough for Bertholdt.

"Please, I'm begging you," Ymir sighed. "Don't go so hard on that kid."

"Is it that 'wounded animal' bullshit you're always telling about?"

"Yeah. He needs your help. He missed the past ten years, and you need to teach him everything he doesn't know. The two of you are the same type, you know exactly what situation he is in. Also, gaining his trust will help you, too."

Boredom and carelessness disappeared from Annie's blue eyes for a moment as she looked up at Ymir.

"You mean there's a way out of _this_?" Her expression became dark with suspicion. "And why would you help me?"

"I didn't say I'll help you, I'll just tell you a way to end this. How long have you been eating…" Ymir lowered her voice, "uh, people?

"About a year. Maybe more than that. But I haven't done it frequently. Before the soldiers yesterday, I last ate, like, four months ago?"

"That doesn't matter." Ymir shook her head. "But, as I said, there _is_ a way to end it all. And you'll need the kid's unconditional trust."

* * *

By the time Ymir and Annie returned, Reiner had already shaved Bertholdt and was just about to cut his hair.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Ymir screamed, pouncing upon the man, almost climbing up his arm and pulling the pair of scissors he'd borrowed from her out of his hand. "You can't just cut it, brother! Cutting hair is art, you can't do it like some Barbarian!"

Bertholdt ran a hand over the thick, greasy mess he called his hair. People used the word "art" for something graceful or beautiful, didn't they? He just couldn't imagine how Ymir could make his hair into something artistic.

"Annie, in the other room, there's a tub, bring it out," she commanded the other girl. "Saw that well a few corners away from here, right? We'll need water."

Annie grudgingly obeyed her while Ymir unbuttoned Bertholdt's shirt.

"There's still water in it." Annie returned with the tub, holding it without any effort despite its obvious weight. "Can't we use this?"

"Just bring fresh water, okay?" Ymir responded, folding the shirt. "We did things in that… shit, Reiner, you're not gonna tell me you washed this kid in _that_ water?"

Reiner didn't answer her, just turned away his gaze from her.

Ymir brushed one of her arched eyebrows with a finger. "Okay. Annie, just bring that water. Reiner, you help me out over here."

The next few hours – or maybe just minutes, Bertholdt couldn't decide since it felt like forever – were spent helping him getting into his new clothes, washing him, then washing his hair again, and then washing his hair once again until Ymir thought it was finally clean enough to cut. Whenever her fingers swept over his sight, he couldn't help staring at them.

When Reiner had cut his neck, Bertholdt's body had gone all limp, making him panic. Not only did these people around him apparently distrust him, but they also knew the easiest ways to kill him at any moment.

He took a deep breath in, closing his eyes, and then let it out.

_Don't think about it. They're the only people you can count on._

"Hey, boy. You all right?" Ymir's voice broke into his thoughts.

Bertholdt's eyes flipped open, swallowing and giving her a small nod.

"Okay, you just didn't react. I was worried." Ymir smiled. "So, you wanna see a fight between me and Prince Charming? A real fight between real titans."

"She's kidding," Reiner snorted. "She doesn't stand a chance against me. She's half my size!"

"And twice your speed!"

Annie interrupted them with a sigh. "Both your techniques are lame and awful. It'd be a really shitty fight."

"You don't have to watch it then."

Bertholdt looked up at Ymir as she soon ordered Annie and Reiner to pack up and wait for them before the building. When the two of them left, she finished cutting Bertholdt's hair and put the scissors on the table. Then, she got around him, speaking in a low, serious voice as she gave him something – a small piece of fabric with two crossed wings.

"I need to talk to you about this, Bertholdt." She took a seat next to him, leaning of the table. "Do you know what that crest means?"

Bertholdt nodded.

"There's a small department of the Survey Corps chasing us, do you know that too?"

Bertholdt nodded again. Reiner had told him about something like this.

"I don't know and I don't care why you have this patch." Ymir placed a hand on Bertholdt's forehead, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "If it's important to you, that's okay, you can keep it. But those two won't ask you why you're carrying a Survey Corps crest. The moment they see it, they'll take you down. I just wanted you to know that. Be careful, big boy."

* * *

Ymir lead Bertholdt down to where Annie and Reiner had been waiting for him, showing him how to use his crutches, but only stayed to wave after them until they rounded the next corner. She ran back to her apartment, tearing open the window and cleaning all the mess as quickly as she could.

_Sweat, blood, exhalation. Their fucking reek._

She hated this smell. She hated the memories that came with this smell.

But it was all over now. Berik was dead, and she was free. He was the only thing that kept (or more like forced) them together, but now they all had their own paths to follow, and Ymir was sure she'd follow hers.

_At least this newbie looks cute. I really hope he won't become another Berik._

It took her almost an hour to clear away all traces of the trio staying a night at her, and as she was waiting for their smell to go away, the other room's door opened, and a small blonde girl with a terrible bedhead in a nightgown appeared behind it.

"You up so early, Mrs Lenz?" she yawned as she threw herself on the chair next to Ymir, leaning on the table.

"Early? It's already afternoon, Mrs Lenz."

She had first met Christa Lenz almost ten years ago. She'd been chased and wounded – she had been the first "wounded animal" Ymir had ever had to take care of. Back then, she had just thought this would be a short story with no further consequences, but something had made her stay with Christa. They had enlisted in the military together two years later, and even though Christa ended up as a nurse in the local hospital while Ymir became a military officer, they'd been staying together ever since then. One and half a year ago, Christa said yes when Ymir had asked her to live with her, and two months ago, she said yes again – this time, Ymir had been proposing to her. It had probably been the simplest wedding ever, but it had been what made her the happiest woman in the world.

Even as Christa was sitting right next to her, giving a deep sigh and looking like she hadn't had any sleep, Ymir just couldn't help smiling.

"Sorry," Christa laughed, exhausted. "I had a tough night at the hospital. That titan fucker…"

"Don't even mention it. Guess who got to do the dirty job?" Ymir pointed at herself with a finger. "Commander Smith thought it'd be a great idea if the condition of my promotion was killing it."

"Ugh. My condolences. Have you heard what happened to the Special Squad?" Sadness came to Christa's bright blue eyes as she looked up at Ymir.

_Nothing but a few nibbled limbs returned to their families, that's all Annie left._

"Yeah. Poor unfortunate souls."

_I wonder though, who had it worse? The four of them, dying within a minute, or Annie, being slowly devoured from the inside?_


	3. Nobody likes the mess

Hanji Zoe had never thought of getting married. He didn't really care about finding someone he could've spent all his life with, and whenever someone asked him when he'd have a family he'd just say, "My job is my family". And it was true, his colleagues were his best – or more like only – friends, he spent all his time in the office arranging documents or in the library looking for more information on titans. His job was everything, and when his landlady threw him out of the apartment he used to live in, the office had literally become his home, making getting married even more difficult. His situation had soon become the butt of the jokes, and he went along with it. He didn't need a wife, he thought. He was fine living alone in a military office, eating his company's leftovers and drinking cheap tea, chasing the fairy tales of his childhood.

Maybe that was the reason all his girlfriends would leave him in less than three weeks.

He was twenty when he met Ilse Langnar. The Squad had been only him, his friend Rivaille and his not-so-secret admirer Moblit Berner. She had been fifteen, had just graduated and had been the only one applying for the Squad since its founding three years ago.

Hanji woke up to Rivaille's foot between his ribs that morning, ordering him to do all the paperwork, since they both lived in the office's backroom and it was a mutual agreement between them that the one who woke up later would do it – in case anyone would apply for the Special Titan Research Squad.

* * *

Despite her shaking hands and nervous looks on her first day, Ilse turned out to be the most useful member of the Squad – she was enthusiastic and hard-working, and she was extremely serious when it came to titans.

Hanji soon found himself thinking of her way too often.

First they drank the Squad's cheap tea together, discussing the hypothetic shapeshifting abilities of titans, then they had their first dinner alone at her place disputing about how one can recognize a titan in human form, and in less than a year they had their first intimate moments.

But they never had sex.

Hanji thought it was because she was waiting for something, or simply wanted to stay a virgin until her wedding day, but it turned out she wasn't a virgin. As his hands slipped under her shirt the first time she let him touch her, his hands brushed against a long, rough scar on her stomach.

She pushed him away, pulling down her shirt, embarrassed.

"It was a stupid little accident when I was a child," she said in a brittle voice. "No one has ever stayed after they found out about it, that's… that's why I didn't want you to know about it."

They had been together for almost a year, and this had been the first time neither of them mentioned titans.

_I knew the soldier, but not the girl._

"It's okay," he told her, "there are other ways if you want children."

They got close, really close. Hanji felt like he never wanted to know any other woman than her.

But then, the day April 25th 850 arrived.

The first strange thing Hanji noticed that day was that Ilse was late from work. She'd always been on time, it was unusual from her to come late. It was raining, maybe she stayed at home because of the rain? No, she wasn't the kind of girl that some rain could scare. Or she fell ill? She was workaholic, she'd been at work with the hardest flu Hanji had ever seen. Or was it the fight they had had the day before when she'd brought up the case of Bertholdt Hoover? That fight was long over by now, it was no reason for her to stay at home. There had never been anything that'd hold Ilse Langnar back from going to work.

Around noon, a Survey Corps officer knocked on their door, asking if Hanji was there.

"The guys at the Military Police and the Survey Corps are looking for you."

The officer led him through the town to the Survey Corps headquarters, but didn't say a single word until they arrived at a staircase leading down to the basement of the building. Another officer had been waiting for them at the top of the stairs with a pair of heavy handcuffs in his hands.

"Your hands, sir," he ordered, and Hanji wasn't brave enough to say no.

Will he be taken to prison? For what reason? What did he say or do to deserve it? The Survey Corps was known as a kind of secret police. The Military Police Brigade were the best of the best soldiers, taking orders right from the king himself. The Survey Corps were hiding in the shadows, watching everyone (even its own members) and spying on suspicious people. They knew about everything, and they had the right to arrest anyone without having to explain why.

With the handcuffs on his wrists, Hanji was lead into a room with a single chair in it and a small table with a candle. The dimness of the room scared him. His eyes had never been good, thus he didn't like dark places.

The Survey Corps officer that had been leading him now left the room, and a Military Police officer with a bunch of papers and a notebook took his place.

"Sit down," she said, placing the documents on the table and leaning against the wall on the opposite of the room. She opened her notebook, letting out a bored sigh. "Squad Leader Hanji Zoe, Survey Corps, Special Titan Research Squad?"

"That's me," Hanji replied firmly to conceal his confusion.

"Do you know a certain prisoner named Bertholdt Hoover?"

Two days earlier, it'd had taken him quite a few minutes to recall who the name belonged to. But now, just over a wicked fight, he knew exactly who the officer was talking about.

"I do."

"Fine. What do you know about him?"

He had to remind himself – titans didn't officially exist, he couldn't tell about that if he wanted to be taken seriously.

"He killed a girl about five years ago. Her sister. That's why he was arrested."

The officer stopped taking notes, turning back a few pages in her notebook.

"If I'm right, you had been working with him for nearly one and half a year, but due to your lack of success, this 'experiment' of yours was aborted. Correct?"

"That's right, ma'am."

"What did you think of him?"

"Sorry?"

The officer sighed. "What kind of a person do you think he is?"

Hanji hesitated. Why was she asking him this?

"He was about twelve when I was forced to quit visiting him, but as far as I could see, he was a very shy boy. Shy and scared, but he meant no harm."

"He became a murderer at age eleven and you say he means no harm?"

"This is just my personal opinion on him, ma'am."

The officer gave Hanji a cold look, and then turned a few pages forward.

"Ilse Langnar. Do you know this person?"

"Of course I do. She's my subordinate."

"What have your relationship been like in the past months?"

_You can't tell her you've been practically living with her for years now_, he reminded himself.

"She's the most useful in that pile of shi— I mean, in my squad. As a person, she's honest and serious."

"Yesterday afternoon several people heard the two of you arguing. One of the witnesses said, 'it sounded like hyenas killing each other'. Another one says 'it was worse than a Sunday lunch with my mother-in-law'."

"We had a fight, it's true, but it wasn't anything serious. I swear."

"What were you doing last night?"

"Last night? I came here for Commander Smith's permission on a certain case. Anyone can confirm it. After that, I went back to the office and had a long sleep."

"In the office?"

"That's… where I live. With Lance Corporal Ackerman. You can ask him. But, uh, we're not like that, I mean he is, but I—"

"I don't care, Mr Zoe," the officer cut him off. "Do you know where Ilse Langnar is right now?"

"She didn't come to work this morning. That's all I know."

"This morning, Ilse Langnar, age eighteen, was found dead in Bertholdt Hoover's prison cell, she had probably been raped and then killed with her own knife."

The woman went on, but Hanji didn't hear her. Ilse was dead. Ilse was dead. He had to repeat it over and over in his head to get what it meant. Her smile, her touch, her laugh, her soft moans were all gone.

He swallowed, hard.

"Hey, are you listening?" The officer's firm voice pulled him back into reality. "I said there were two suspects, you and the Hoover boy. Since what you said seems to be true, we have to assume Langnar's murderer is Bertholdt Hoover. You are a free man, thank you for your cooperation and I apologize for the cold treatment."

"Wait, what will happen to him now?"

"That only depends on whether he will confess or not. You can go home now."

As he walked home, Hanji decided to take the longer way. He wanted to see where Ilse had died, even though he was well aware of the watching eyes kept on his every step. They told him he was free of suspicion, but he also knew it wasn't true. He'd be watched for at least a few days after this, and he knew all the squad would be questioned about what he was doing last night and what kind of a person they thought he was.

_But I'm innocent, and they're going to prove it._

The scene was already cleaned up by the time he got there. There were only a few soldiers from the Garrison, one of them Hanji knew personally.

"Hey, Hannes," he called out. "What happened here?"

Hannes turned to him, and said in a bored voice. "Some girl was killed here last night. We were sent here to clean up, but the rain already did it for us."

Hanji tilted his head. "It fell down there?"

"Nay, it was all bloody up here, too. That kid sure did a nice job."

Suddenly, Hanji felt like punching him in the face and breaking his jaw, but he took a deep breath instead.

Apparently, nobody liked the mess left after a young girl's murder.

* * *

"So he's going to live?" Rivaille asked, the faint light reflecting in his narrow, sleepless eyes.

Hanji nodded. It was the night after Bertholdt's trial and Ilse's funeral, two days after her death. The two events had one thing in common – they were both jokes. Nobody, not even her family cared about Ilse and nobody cared about what would happen to Bertholdt. Around noon, Hanji had paid his last drink in the pub and had decided to do something about it.

"Nobody believed me, they had to bring in the girl who used to cook for Ilse." He stared into the single candle's light standing on the table between them. He had been the only one who could've saved Bertholdt, and he did, thus endangering the future of the Squad.

"She made me promise her that I'd never tell anyone about her phobia," Hanji said, his throat dry and his voice empty. "Her family made fun of her for it. They also hated the idea of her leaving for the army and not taking over her mother's tailor shop. She told me all this because she trusted me, and made me promise I'd never tell anyone about it."

"Don't blame yourself."

"I don't." Hanji's voice cracked as he went on. "I blame that motherfucker that raped her and murdered her. Whoever it was, I swear to Rose I'll kill them if I find them...!"

"Hanji."

Hanji swallowed, his hands searching his pockets until he finally found something small and shiny, and threw it on the table, right next to the candle. It was a thin ring made of silver, and it had probably cost him more than a year's salary.

"I wanted to propose to her yesterday!" That was all he could say before breaking down in tears. He took off his glasses and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

He had lost the girl he loved and had made the Survey Corps mad in less than two days. Commander Smith didn't approve of his titan saving action, not to mention interrupting a trial drunk. Rivaille told him the Squad would probably end here, and even though he didn't show it, it was obvious he was desperate to keep his team together.

Nobody liked the mess Hanji made.

* * *

It had been five years now, but it seemed like nothing had changed. Rivaille and Moblit were still there, and tragedy struck again like a lightning. Four of their greatest people had died and been devoured within a minute. The four of them – the old trio and a young soldier named Armin Arlert – had been staying up all night, keeping vigil for those who they'd lost two days ago.

Today, Hanji told Moblit and Armin to stay home and let Rivaille have his long sleep. However, in the early afternoon, Armin showed up with a small, worn notebook in his hand.

"I told you to have a break," Hanji sighed, not even looking at the boy at the front door.

"Mr Zoe, I… I wanted to talk to you."

"Don't 'Mr Zoe' me, I'm not that old." He looked at the younger man, still standing nervous at the door. Armin was about twenty, and had a pretty, almost girly face with big blue eyes and long hair with a braid on one side. Rumour had it that he had only passed his exams because he was smart, and as Hanji looked at his weak physics, he was sure the rumours were true.

"Sit down and tell me whatever you want." Hanji returned to staring out the window at the street. They had a beautiful sunny day. Even the weather seemed to be mocking them as they were mourning their fallen comrades.

Armin took his seat next to Hanji, fixing his gaze on the worn table between them.

"So, the thing is… I'm sorry, but I…" He slid the notebook on the table. "I… it fell out of your pocket yesterday and I took it home. I meant to give it back, but… I'm sorry. I was just too curious. Sorry."

Hanji looked at the worn leather cover. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn't let Armin see how its sight startled him.

It was Ilse's notebook, the one she'd loved so much. Its sight gave Hanji a cold running down his spine.

_She loved it probably even more than I loved her._

He inhaled and exhaled once deeply before asking Armin. "It's okay. Did you find anything interesting?"

"Yes, so the thing is... This girl, Ilse, she… She tells about stories from her childhood – her grandmother's stories."

"…go on."

"Apparently, about fifty or sixty years ago there had still been villages in the north that were… like, admiring titans like gods. Or at least, there had been a lot of mentions about huge god-like creatures in their tales. Ilse Langnar's grandmother had escaped from a village like this. She wrote that there had been some kind of a madness or illness that took over their leaders and the people who survived it had to leave.

"Also, this morning I visited the library to see if there's any more information about it and I found a country that might be the one Ilse had written about. It's in the far north, and it had a rather specific culture. For some reason, there had been many titan babies born, and they had actually really been deified by the people. They were like shamans. That is, until that certain madness took over."

"What was this madness exactly?"

Armin swallowed. "The… the leaders. The titans. They started devouring their own people. Their deities became their biggest fears, and they—"

"They decided to kill them all so that they couldn't cause any more problem, right?"

Armin nodded. "And what's even more interesting… there had been a family that became famous for their titan-killing skills."

"The Ackermans, right?" Hanji sat back, smiling at Armin's eyes going wide in surprise. "Armin, I've been living with an Ackerman. Don't you think he knows about his heritage?"

"Is… is this why he wants to kill titans so badly?"

"Nope, he has personal reasons. It's not in their blood to kill titans. We do know of at least one Ackerman who actually fell in love with a titan, don't we?"

Armin dropped his eyes, and it made Hanji feel bad. The titan was the one who had killed Armin's parents, after all.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Ah, it's fine." Armin threw his hands into the air, forcing himself to smile.

There was an awkward minute of silence before Hanji could finally think of something else to change the topic.

"So, is this all you found out?"

"Yes, sadly this is it."

Hanji smiled at him encouragingly. "No, listen, this is a lot more than we could have ever came up after reading an old notebook's side notes."

Armin scratched his nose.

"Also… I know this might be something I should not talk about right now, but I've been thinking about the titan that… uh…"

"It's okay," Hanji lied, trying to hide the trembling in his voice. Petra, Auluo, Günther and Eldo had all been great people, and their deaths meant a serious loss not only as valuable soldiers. Their arguments and pointless, almost amusing fights had been what kept the Squad's enthusiasm alive. But it was over. They were gone now.

"What is it?"

Armin swallowed before answering.

"That titan… I've never heard of a female titan before. I've read all the stories and tales I found in the town, and all the titans were male. I used to believe that it was something that had been passing down from father to son, and even though they had human wives only their sons inherited this power or anomaly, as you will to put it. But now I had to rethink it all again. One possibility is that there are only a few female titans who were only used for reproductive purposes. The other one… well, this kind of scares me, but the other possibility is that titans have their own hierarchy like bees. This titan might be something as old as time, an ancient goddess who has been keeping her kin alive for hundreds or thousands of years." He stopped, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and took a long deep breath in, and then let it out. "I know this sounds ridiculous, but… if we're chasing shape-shifters, I believe we should consider even something this ridiculous to be possibly true."

Hanji didn't reply him immediately. They knew the exact family background of the titan that killed Armin's parents. His mother was an average woman with no sign of having shape-shifting or man-eating tendencies. His father was the same. Both of them had been shocked and terrified when their only son turned out to be what he was. It was obvious none of them were titans. But then why was their son different?

"I don't really know what to believe about this 'ancient goddess' you're talking about. However, I also don't…"

"'Ancient goddess', my ass," Rivaille's tired voice sounded behind Hanji. He must have just awoken, judging by his loose unbuttoned shirt and messy hair. His forever sleepless eyes were unusually empty, his face expressionless. "I've heard about many gods and goddesses, but not once about a several thousand years old deity that behaved like a young girl on her period."

Armin furrowed his brows, confusion in his bright blue eyes.

"May I ask… what do you mean by that, Corporal?"

"Her size was a great advantage to her, that and her speed are why she could defeat us even though there was little chance she'd heard about our equipment. But I didn't feel like I was fighting some really old creature. It was like trying to get one of Madame Magnolia's whores off of myself."

Hanji sighed. "Okay, then let's stay at the other theory, the one that states female titans are simply rare. And you," he pointed a finger at the short man standing behind him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed before his chest, "get the fuck back to sleep."

"Tch, you're not my mother," Rivaille spat, but turned around and left through the door leading to the other room of the office.

There had been a few minutes of silence before Armin spoke again.

"It's so sad… every time I think about Lance Corporal Rivaille, it just feels sadder and sadder."

"What is?"

"He's a great person. This is not what he deserves." Armin let his hair fall forward, covering his face. "Maybe… if titans were an everyday issue… he could be the greatest hero of all."

"Yeah, you're right. But I don't believe any of us wants to see that world."

That's what Hanji said, but in reality, he almost craved that world with titans as a daily threat. Maybe in that world, his studies and researches wouldn't be for nothing. Maybe in that world, little boys wouldn't have to undergo years of torture and imprisonment called "experimenting". Maybe in that world, young girls wouldn't be raped and killed in the middle of the street for no reason.

_I kind of want to experience what it's like in that world._

"Ah, I almost forgot it!" Armin gasped, straightening his back. "We have to make the wanting of the runaway titan! Hanji, you knew him the best, what should we put on it?"

Hanji tried to recall the last time he had seen Bertholdt. As a child, he had been tiny and timid, but Hanji had no idea how much he had changed. At his trial, he didn't really pay attention to his shaking, curled-up figure.

"Well, what I'm sure of is that he looked like a Southerner. Olive skin and stuff like that. What else… he was short as a kid. He didn't eat much, so I doubt he'd grown a lot and also I'm sure he's with company since he must be very weak. I don't believe whoever helped him escape had time to shave him, either. They had to get away from here as quickly as possible. And one more thing – he had very intense green eyes. Like, the kind that you look into and you can feel it gape at the deep of your soul."

"So we have quite an idea of who we're looking for, right?"

"Yeah. We just have to find out where he might be right now."

Nobody liked the mess it took to find a runaway titan shifter.


	4. Ghosts

It took the trio almost two days to get to Trost. They had come here on a boat from a small port town near Calanes, the town they had taken off from. It had been the first time Bertholdt had travelled on a boat – the first time he had ever travelled, to be more accurate -, but he had to come to the conclusion that he hated it. The splashing of the waves and the floor's rocking under his unsteady feet almost drove him crazy, not to mention all the water around him. It wasn't only him, though, both Annie and Reiner looked upset and nervous and they barely ever left the cabin the three of them got.

"Well, if we gotta get fucked, we gotta get fucked." he heard Annie murmuring to herself as the boat left the port town.

Reiner soon had enough of her presence – she hadn't even said a word when he stated he needed fresh air – and left the cabin to talk to their traveling company and make a good impression.

_If he makes a good first impression, no one will come here asking what's wrong with me or her._

Thus, Bertholdt had to spend the two days going to Trost with Annie. The first day, they did nothing but stare at each other or the ceiling in dead silence. Annie slipped her hand between her legs every once and then, and studied her fingers with a troubled look.

Finally, around sunset, she turned to Bertholdt and asked him, "So you really can't talk?"

He shook his head, dropping his eyes. Annie leaned against the wall behind her as she crossed her arms before her chest. The movement slightly lifted her breasts.

_Aren't those heavy to carry around, though?_

"The plan is that I'll be giving you a physical training and Reiner will do the rest," Annie went on, unexpectedly. She didn't seem like the kind of person who liked small-talking with people she didn't like. "Knowing him, I'll end up teaching you everything, though. And I'm a terrible teacher. You better not expect much from me." She scratched the bridge of her nose with a finger, her icy blue eyes staring straight at Bertholdt without blinking. "He told me you know nothing, is that true?"

Bertholdt nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. He didn't even know what he had missed in the past ten years.

Annie nodded back, slipping her hand in her pants again, giving her fingers another troubled look, and spent the rest of the boat trip in silence.

Along with them, a worried-looking young man had taken on at the port town, and it turned out he had grown up in Trost before getting married and moving to Jinae. Reiner asked him for directions and an inn when they took off.

"Well, the best inn in the town's Wagner's," the man scratched his beaded chin, and then waved his arm in the direction of a crowded street. "But if you don't want the inn keeper to steal all your money away with his great deals you better stay at Nac Tias's place over there, with the goat and the goose above the entrance. 'Tis a bit dirtier than Wagner's and they don't give you the kind of meal Wagner does, but I know that Nac and he's an honest man, believe me. Never asks for more payment in the last moment like Wagner does. He sells horses, too, if you wanna buy one or two. They're good ones, take you from Metrosis to Shiganshina in less than three days – or at least that's what they say."

The inn had actually been better than the trio had expected. It wasn't that dirty, and the meal they were offered really hadn't been much, but they only stayed one night, and the conditions were just perfect for that.

"Good news is," Reiner said as he helped Bertholdt sit down on one of the beds in their room, "we'll be there by tomorrow evening. Bad news is, until then you two must play the enamoured couple. And it wouldn't hurt any of you to put some more spirit in your play."

"'The virgin and the whore', it's going to be the greatest plays ever performed," Annie snorted.

Bertholdt felt his face going all red of embarrassment. Annie was just as mean as nice she looked and Bertholdt had to admit he liked her looks, even her crooked nose. He couldn't get rid of that intimidating, uncomfortable feeling he had every time he looked at her or got close to her, though.

_She's the snow on the mountains. Beautiful if you watch from far away, but the moment you get too close it freezes you down to the bones._

He yawned. His arms hurt and his legs felt even weaker than when he had first tried standing up and walking with the crutches Ymir had given him. He was exhausted but he had already spent most of the past two days sleeping. What would his fellows think of him if he'd be sleeping all the time?

Reiner's cold eyes wandered to him, his face strict and expressionless. Then, all of a sudden, his face broke into a warm, friendly smile.

"Hey, boy, I'll get some food, but then you should go to sleep early. You need to recover from ten years of exhaustion."

With that, he left the room. Bertholdt gave a deep sigh.

_Alone with __her__ again._

Then, suddenly, Annie spoke.

"You noticed it, right?" she asked as she unbuttoned her loose teal-blue shirt. "Maybe it's better if you know it. It'll help you a lot later understanding yourself."

"Hm?"

"Or you didn't?" Annie shot a questioning look at him, already getting rid of her indigo skirt. She seemed to like the colour blue and felt no shame getting naked in front of people. "Then I won't tell you. It's best if you figure it out yourself."

She picked her bag up from the floor where she'd thrown it earlier. She seemed to be looking for something. She pulled her hand out with a small metallic object, but she put it back right after that, a painful expression appearing on her face for a brief moment. She then took out a thin-bladed knife, grabbed her hair and with one quick, swift move she cut off most of it. A bunch of pale blonde hair covered the floor next to her bed.

"That shithole Berik made me grow my hair," she groaned. She was unusually talkative tonight. "I hate it. Gets in the way all the time and heats my neck like hellfire." Annie paused, cutting off a bit more of her hair on the sides. "Your name's Bertholdt, right? Well then, Bertholdt, I want you to promise something. Knowing Reiner, you'll probably hear a lot about what a great person Berik was. Don't believe him. Don't look up to that motherfucker. Don't ever want to become like him. If you do, I'll tear you apart with my own hands. I'll start it at your feet so that it'll hurt longer."

She bowed down, sweeping the cut hair into one nice pile on the floor, and throwing it out the window.

"Goodbye, Berik. No one will ever miss you," she whispered with a sparkle in her eyes. On one hand, she looked as happy as she could be. On the other hand, a terrible cold ran down Bertholdt's spine. She turned around, facing him again, and asked, with the same terrifying look on her face. "So, tell me, are you really a virgin? Or do you at least touch yourself every once and then? Well?"

Bertholdt dropped his eyes, blood rushing into his face. Annie sat down on her bed, crossing her legs. She didn't even blink as she stared at Bertholdt. Now that he thought about it, he'd never seen her blink in the past two days.

"So you _are_ a virgin. Sounds interesting."

Before she could've done or said anything more, Reiner came back with a wooden tray and meal for three.

"For fuck's sake, Annie, put on something. What happened to your hair?"

"None of your business." Annie shoved a hand into her bag again, pulling out a loose, thin shirt.

The dinner was bread and ham – real, fresh slices of ham. Bertholdt felt like it had been an eternity since the last time he's eaten any kind of meat. He ate it all in less than a minute, and then he also ate Annie's leftovers. She barely had any of her meal, and in the end gave more than half of it to him.

As he went to sleep, he also noticed the bed was not like the one he had had at Ymir's. It was a real, a bit hard but all in all comfortable bed. He pulled the blanket up to his nose and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

They took off early in the morning on newly bought horses, and by noon the three of them were already deep into the woods surrounding Trost. About an hour ago, they had to cross a small village.

"That's where we sell meat and animal skins for a living," Reiner explained, nodding to a thin woman welcoming him with a straight face. Their passing through received all kinds of reactions – a young girl stared at them with her eyes wide open, an elderly man turned his back at them and locked the door behind him as he returned to his house, children ran after them laughing and shouting happily. They were all thin, dark-haired and olive-skinned southern people, their clothes worn and torn.

"They have no idea we're shape-shifters," Annie said as they left the village. "But there's no one else around who'd give them what we do. Their last hunter died years ago and they can't afford going to Trost and buy there anything. So we made a deal: we give them anything they need, and they give us anything we need without asking even one question."

"You see, we don't want to kill anyone, but they won't sit on their asses once they find out we're titans." Reiner shrugged. "Nobody wants another village to be wiped out around here."

Bertholdt wanted to ask what the big blond meant when he said "another village", but about two and half an hour later he got the answer. In a bigger circle, the trees were smaller, younger, and ruins of houses lay forgotten around an old well.

"Another reason they won't come after us or ask anything," Reiner noted. "They're afraid of this place. Hundreds died here."

"Yeah," Annie said in a dead voice, looking straight at Bertholdt. "They're afraid of the ghosts of the former habitats of this village. They say once someone came too deep in the woods and his body was found all tied up and hung up on that tree over there. He wasn't wearing a shirt and symbols were carved in his skin."

"Annie."

"But it's not the only story," Annie went on, ignoring Reiner. "There's the woman with her face cut from ear to ear, asking if you think she looks nice, then there's the demon with the head of a dog that feeds on humans, and the girl whose lover cut her legs off. You know she's coming when you hear the sound of an axe chopping wood. Maybe she's around here right now. Oh, and also the guy with the axe…"

"Annie, say one more word and you'll become a local legend too."

Bertholdt didn't listen to the argument they picked up. He looked around, trying to find out from where he heard the sound of the axe, hoping, really hoping that the legless woman stayed home, tired after a long haunted night to chase them.

"Hey, Bertholdt," Reiner called out to him with a smile, pulling him back to reality. "Don't listen to Annie's bullshit. There are only wolves and boars around here, and maybe a few bears, but that's really rare, they only come here when it's too cold for them in the mountains. The strongest creature around here is me, so there's nothing we should be afraid of."

Bertholdt looked at him. Reiner was huge even as a human. Bertholdt wondered what he looked like as a titan. Did he remind of himself? Or was he terrifying? How big was he?

"Don't make me laugh," Annie grinned. "We both know I beat you up in less than a minute. Does this make me something you two should be afraid of?"

"You mean you almost beat me up in titan form, right?"

Annie's icy eyes were staring at Reiner. "No, I mean in human form. But you're right, I could beat you up even if you were in your titan form."

"Huh, you want to give it a try?"

"If you give me a reason… sorry, your mere existence is a perfect reason. I'm in."

* * *

The place they had been looking for was a small cottage deep in the woods, too big for two people, too small for three. There were two beds, so Annie volunteered to sleep on the floor on a spare sheet. Aside from the beds, there was a fireplace with shelves around it on the wall, a huge chest and a table with three chairs. On the table, there were two volumes of leather-cover books with neat handwriting all over their worn pages. All around the floor were sheets of paper in piles with the same handwriting on them, complete with diagrams and sketches of places and people. Annie started to pick up the papers with an annoyed sigh, and as Bertholdt sat on his bed, he tried to imagine Berik sitting at the table, reading the books again and again, biting a pencil and taking notes with his thick brows furrowed. He imagined him staying up late, throwing his notes around, and trying to figure something out, a concerned expression on his pale face. Bertholdt didn't know what he was working on, but he imagined it must have been something really important.

Reiner opened the chest, but as he was putting his own clothes in, his hands suddenly stopped, taking out a small, heavy-looking bag and opening it with his eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Annie, is this your money?"

"What?" Annie looked up. She took a quick look at the bag and shrugged. "No. How much is that?"

"Incredibly lot. We won't need Ymir to send money for a while now. Where did Berik get all this cash?"

Annie stopped, staring at a bright white sheet of paper. "Reiner, come here for a minute."

"What is it?" Reiner stepped behind her, looking at the paper over her shoulder.

"I might be illiterate, but even I can tell this handwriting's different from Berik's. Its arrangement is weird, too."

"It's a letter. Give it to me." Reiner raised the letter into the light coming in through the windows above the beds and narrowed his eyes as he read it.

Minutes passed by, and Reiner was still just standing there, reading the letter over and over again as if trying to comprehend its content. Bertholdt soon gave up waiting for him to say something and looked at the notes spread all over his bed. Most of them were texts he couldn't read, but some of them had sketches of human bodies on them with small arrows pointing at limbs or internal organs. As he was looking through the sheets, Bertholdt's eyes got caught on a worn paper that was different from the rest. It was way more creased than any of the other papers, and it barely had any text on it but the sketch of a young boy. He seemed to be around ten, and he had a round face and messy, dark hair. Also, there was something in his face that reminded Bertholdt of Berik.

He narrowed his eyes. The lines of the sketch looked blurry even though he was watching it from really close. Was his eyesight really that bad?

Suddenly, Reiner spoke. His voice sounded tired and hoarse.

"Annie, we should talk."

* * *

"What was in that letter?" Annie risked to ask after several minutes of silence. She was leaning against the tree that Reiner was sitting before. She had sent Bertholdt out to train on his own so that the two of them could talk without being interrupted or overheard.

"He sold us."

"…what?" Annie furrowed her brows in confusion.

Reiner gave a deep sigh before replying.

"A certain Mr. K wrote to him. He thanked the information Berik has given him and said he was looking forward to see us with his own eyes. He fucking sold us."

"You mean… that guy's coming here to… to kill us?" Annie tried to keep her voice calm, but her mind was a mess. She bit her lower lip. She couldn't fall apart now. She had to stay calm.

"No, he's not coming here yet. Berik promised him to kill us himself. He promised to bring our skulls."

"But this Mr. K knows where we are, right?" Annie crossed her arms in front of her chest. "So no matter how you look at it, sooner or later he'll come here. And we have to leave this place before that day comes. We need to hurry."

"How do you expect us to hurry?!" Reiner groaned, finally looking up at the girl. His eyes were burning with fear and anger – and deep disappointment. "We're struck here with this fucking cripple! It's not something we can hurry with! Maybe it'd be jus easier if we killed him and end it all."

Annie had known Reiner for almost ten years, but not once had she seen him as desperate as he was right now. She wanted to feel sorry for him – she'd been betrayed by Berik, too, although it was in a much more personal way. It hurt her, but it wasn't a threat to all of them.

_Reiner is a total jerk sometimes, but he showed me I'm not as much of a monster as I believed._

_Ymir is a bitch, but she told me I'm not lost._

_This kid is annoyingly helpless, but he's probably never really lived._

_I don't want them to die._

She really wanted to feel sorry for them all, she wanted to be mad at Berik just one more time, she wanted to feel something, _anything. _But all she felt was fear.

"Reiner," she finally managed to say, "Listen to me. I know exactly how you feel right now. I know it hurts like hell, but…"

_Shit, I'm terrible at comforting people._

"You know how I feel? You know nothing."

Annie rolled her eyes. She grabbed Reiner's short hair, pulling him closer and leaning forward at the same time so that their faces were only inches from each other.

"He was a brother to you, and a lover to me. He lied to you, and he violated me. He sold us both. You just don't tell me what I know or don't know." She let go of him, but her eyes never left his. She hesitated for a few seconds, then closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh, letting her head fall back. She ran a hand over her hair.

"Hey, Reiner?"

"What?"

"How 'bout a fight? I promised to beat you up."

Reiner said nothing, so Annie went on, trying to convince him. "It'll do good."

The man finally looked up at her.

"Three cracked bones or one broken?"

"You decide, Prince Charming," Annie shrugged.

Reiner stood up with a sigh. "Three cracked. And don't call me Prince Charming."

* * *

Bertholdt had spent hours that day clinging to the wooden railing of the small house's terrace, walking up and down. His arms and legs hurt and his palms were red from holding on to the rough wood. He had tripped several times, but somehow he always managed to stand up and try again. At the end of the day, Reiner had to carry him to his bed.

But still, he just couldn't fall asleep. He lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, listening to Reiner's slow breathing and counting his own breaths. It had been a long day, and he didn't want it to be over yet.

He kept on counting. In, and out. In, and out. When he got bored of it, he started counting Reiner's breaths.

_Wait. It's the two of us? Where's Annie?_

He gathered all his remaining strength, pulling himself up with his crutches and forcing himself to get to the door and leave the cottage.

"Where do you think you're going?"

A lantern was lit right next to Bertholdt, and there was Annie, sitting on the ground with her legs pulled up to her chest, her eyes reflecting the light and turning it into something unnatural. Bertholdt gave a relieved sigh as he descended to the ground next to the girl, keeping a three-step distance. He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, as if asking "And what are you doing here?"

"I'm standing guard tonight," she shrugged, turning her gaze away from Bertholdt. Her eyes were fixed at the darkness of the woods around them without blinking. Had Bertholdt ever seen her blinking?

Annie sighed. "Listen, boy, Reiner doesn't want you to know this, but we're in danger. That's why I'm here now. Some people believe our skulls bring good luck, and Berik sold us all to such a person. We don't know how much this person knows, but probably enough to kill us." She paused, swallowing. "I think you have the right to know this. We're… we said we're the strongest creatures around here, but if you want to know the truth, we're frightened. Reiner wants me to protect you if anyone attacks us, but it's not the right solution. You must learn to protect yourself as soon as possible."

Bertholdt scratched his nose. He had seen Annie and Reiner fight earlier that day – she had practically been flying around the huge blonde, and finished him within minutes. Her body was tiny, but she was skilled and unexpectedly strong and fast. Reiner had no realistic chance against her.

_And I haven't even seen them transformed._

Silence fell on the two of them. As Annie was still staring out at the night before her, Bertholdt kept thinking about everything that happened in just one day. The handwritten notes all over the house, the sketch of the boy, the letter – he had the feeling they were all connected somehow, but he had no idea what this connection might be. If only he could read…

"Hey, Bertholdt?" It was the first time since they had met that there was no despite or annoyance in Annie's voice as she called out to him. "I scared you, right? I'm sorry. And not only for having scared you, I'm also sorry for all the times I will be a bitch. I, uh…" she gave a small, nervous laugh. "I'm having a hard time. But I really want to help you. Mostly because we need you to get better, but also because, well, I remember what it feels like to struggle with accepting yourself. We've all walked this path."

A cold breeze blew through the woods, making all the trees around them rattle. Annie leaned her back against the cottage's wall behind her.

"Berik once told me when the trees cry, you can hear the people of the woods singing their requiem. But it's a lie, another of his lies. There are no ghosts like that haunting these woods. The girl with the cut face, the one without legs… they've never existed. Fairy tales parents tell their children so that they won't go wandering out into the woods. They're just like us." Annie shrugged. "Except for we really are hiding out here.

"As for the hung guy… there was no creepy rite. He came here for whatever reason and hanged himself. No one even noticed he went missing, only when I found the corpse. Poor boy. This is a sad place with many sad memories. Reiner and I both have our bitter experiences here, that's why we need you to pull yourself together as soon as possible. We want to leave this place forever."

For a few minutes, they were just sitting still without looking at each other or saying a word. Every once and then, Bertholdt took a deep breath in, ready to say something and then finding himself unable to. For the first time in years, he hated he couldn't speak. He peeked at the girl by his side, drawing meaningless lines in the dirt before her with a slender finger.

_Maybe if I poked her…_

He reached out an unsteady hand, and he almost touched Annie's pale shoulder when a sound came from what sounded like right next to him. He flinched. It was a low, squeaking sound, like a small animal that was being strangled.

"If I were you, I'd go back to sleep now, from tomorrow, you'll be sweating blood at the end of every day" Annie advised. "Also… there may not be any ghosts haunting the woods, but instead we have boars that don't like it when you disturb them, and the one you just heard is pretty close, you know?"

* * *

Rivaille picked up the skull from the table, the white bone felt smooth against his skin. It was surprisingly light, as if it was made of paper. Though it once had been the base of a titan's head, it looked like a simple human skull. No strange shape, no fangs, nothing that'd make anyone doubt it was human. If Rivaille hadn't seen the corpses it had left behind, if he hadn't seen his superior Commander Smith's nibbled right arm (or more like what was left of it), he would have actually believed there was nothing special in the skull he was holding in his hands.

_But this… is the remains of a true monster._

He turned his gaze over to Hanji, sitting by the table with dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you sure it's perfectly clean? Commander wants nothing rotting in his office."

Hanji yawned. "I was up all night cleaning it. I scraped away the last tiny bits of flesh with my nails."

Rivaille grimaced, placing the skull back on the table. "You're both amazing and disgusting. Why are we even friends?"

Hanji shrugged, grinning. "Because only we can tolerate each other."

"You got me." Rivaille wiped his hands in his shirt. "By the way, has Berner finished sketching what this guy might have looked like alive?"

Hanji leaned forward on his chair, trying to pull out a single sheet of paper from under a huge pile. It all ended up spread all over the table, and he also kicked another pile of notes to the floor with a light-headed move of his elbow.

"He's been asking around people in town who might have seen him, plus he examined the skull itself so that he'll have a most accurate image of this guy. Here it is!"

Rivaille took a close look at the sketch. It was the portrait of a young man, probably in his early or middle twenties with high cheekbones and dark hair. His eyebrows had a firm line, giving his face a confident impression.

_Almost the kind of man I like._

"It's weird, huh?" Hanji grinned at him. "He was such a good-looking boy, and he also was a fifteen-foot monster."

"Yeah." Rivaille didn't really pay attention to his friend. He furrowed his brows. There was something about this face he didn't like. He had the feeling he had seen this somewhere before. "Hanji, doesn't this guy remind you of someone?"

Hanji scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, yeah. When I first saw that drawing, I thought Moblit was making fun of me. He looks just like…"

The line of his eyebrows. His cheekbones. His dark hair. The shape of his eyes. That confident look.

Rivaille finished Hanji's sentence.

"It's Eren Jaeger."


	5. Someone else

Armin put the sketch so close to his face it almost touched his nose. He narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brows in confusion. Then he lowered the piece of paper, looking up at Eren, who's been standing before him, just as confused as Armin.

The blond sighed, letting his hand fall to his side. "No doubt, this guy definitely looks like Eren."

"What do you mean, he 'looks like Eren'? These two are the same," Hanji shook his head as he was sitting on his chair backwards, arms fold on the backrest. "Could it be you forgot to mention you have a twin, Eren?"

Eren snorted, running a hand over his messy hair and scratching the back of his head. "A twin I never knew of? Ridiculous."

"No, wait," Armin interrupted, gaining confidence. "There are differences. Look at them! Eren's jawline is different, and so is his nose. His forehead isn't this wide, either. Also, the witnesses said this guy had brown eyes, right? Eren's are blue."

"This one looks somewhat older, too," Rivaille pointed out. "Although I couldn't tell his age for sure. He's still just a titan, and we have no idea how fast titans age. What more, I doubt Jaeger could grow a beard in three days."

"So there's no way it's me or my twin." Eren scratched his chin at the mention of his beard. It was nothing much, barely more than some stubble, but it was obvious he had been taking care of it for long. "But it still could be some kind of a... relative of mine. What the hell's going on here..."

Hanji let his head fall forward, his forehead hit the backrest.

"Shit, why does everything have to be so difficult?"

Rivaille gave a deep sigh, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I don't know, but staring at each other won't take us forward at all in this case. Jaeger, go home. Thank you for coming."

Eren grinned. "Well, spending time with you is still better than staying at home while my old man's visiting us."

Armin dropped his eyes. It was known for everyone in the office that Eren's relationship with his father had long become ill. Their hostility for each other had come to a point where they couldn't even stand living close to each other, and so Eren and his significant other, Mikasa had moved to the other end of the town.

"How's… how's she?" Armin finally asked in a low voice.

Eren's smile disappeared as he scratched the back of his head again. When he arrived at the office, he had made it obvious he hadn't slept last night due to personal reasons.

"Well, when I left she felt better. But I'd rather go and see myself if the old man has found out what's wrong."

"Hope she'll get better soon." Hanji shot him a smile.

"So do I, believe it."

Armin cleared his throat, and then turned to his friend.

"Eren, do you… do you want me to go home with you?"

"Yeah, thanks."

They walked the crowded streets silently for a while. Mikasa had been ill for barely more than a day, but it has already had a visible effect on Eren's behavior just like on his appearance. Even though he had been studying to be a doctor just like his father, there were still lots of things he didn't know, and this case was clearly one he couldn't handle without help – even if the only help he could ask for was that of his despised father's.

Armin had been Eren's first friend when they were little. Since he had been small and weak, and was more into books than beating up other kids, older boys loved to pick on him. They met when one time he got seriously hurt and Dr. Jaeger had to take care of him. Armin watched their relationship falling apart, becoming hateful and hostile and even though he had felt sorry for them, he had also been well aware that there was nothing he could've done about it.

"Armin." Eren's voice cut off his thoughts. "Who do you think that guy was? I mean… he just freaks me out."

"I don't know. I don't even know whether we'll ever find out. But, Eren, he's gone now. It doesn't matter, he can't hurt us anymore."

"Yeah, but…" Eren scratched the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous. "A captured titan escaped. The wanting will be there in every town by the end of next week, everybody will know there's a titan on loose."

"That titan can't hurt you, either. Mr Hanji said he was too weak to…"

"That's it! If he really is as weak as Hanji says, there's no way he could've gotten out alone. Also, there's that Female Titan. There must be at least a third one of them. The Female was the bait, and the third one rescued the captured guy. They're not alone, and we have no idea where they are or what they're gonna do next."

Armin's throat went dry. He knew Eren was afraid, and he wanted to make him feel better.

"Hey, we'll… we'll figure it out, okay?" He gave the other man a shy smile. "They still don't know who you are, do they? And they probably won't chase you until one of them is as weak as we believe them to be. We have time. We probably have plenty of time."

"Yeah…" Eren squeezed Armin's shoulder. His hand felt large against his weak body. "You're right, Armin."

Armin dropped his eyes, his mouth slightly twitched.

They had met when they were seven, but as time passed they slowly got closer, becoming best friends. They were around twelve when one night they just decided to wander off into the woods near their hometown Shiganshina. They talked about many things, discussed many stupid, unimportant themes, and suddenly Armin found himself staring at Eren, not listening to what he was saying, but the way he was saying it – the sparkle in his eyes, his excited gestures, the changes in his voice.

He had never told Eren about what he felt that night, but he never had the chance either. Then Eren held hands with Mikasa in public for the first time a few years later, and he just had to realize it was better like this. He didn't want to ruin their friendship.

As they got to the building Eren and Mikasa were living in, the man stopped and looked at his friend with an uncomfortable grimace.

"Would you check if my old man's still here? I don't wanna meet him."

* * *

Eren waited patiently until Armin returned in a few minutes, telling him his father had already left. Even though he didn't like him, he had to admit his father was a great doctor, and much more experienced than him.

Mikasa was still in bed, all she could do was call out for him as he entered the apartment. Armin just said hi to her before leaving as Eren washed his face and wiped his hair away from his face, hiding his exhaustion.

He lightly knocked on the door before entering the bedroom. Mikasa was sitting in the bed under a thin summer blanket, leaning against the bed headboard behind her. She had her long, shiny black hair spread all over her shoulders, covering half her face and making her pale skin look almost white.

"Hey. Are you feeling better?" Eren sat down next to her on the bed, cupping Mikasa's face with a hand and pulling her into a soft kiss.

"Yes, I'm all right now." Mikasa gave him a small smile, just as much as the scar on her face let her lips move. It came all the way down from her forehead to her chin, splitting her right eyebrow and her mouth in two and leaving her eye blind.

"Why did Lance Corporal Shrimp need you?"

"It was nothing important. Just wanted to ask a few questions about that titan attack last week."

"And? Was it any useful?"

Eren laughed. "Well, not really. It's not like I was part of that attack."

He had to admit Rivaille's concern didn't come out of the blue. Several damaged friends of his were the evidence that he was in fact dangerous – even Mikasa and Armin were such friends. He only had to look at the girl's scarred face to remember he wasn't what he wanted to be.

_When I was nine, I thought I'd become a great soldier in the Military Police. Now I'm twenty and a subject of the Titan Research Squad. A fucking monster._

Eren had first realized he was different when he was ten. He didn't remember much about that day, but whatever he did recall was enough to make him live in fear. He enlisted in the military to get into the Titan Research Squad, but due to his anger issues, he had to leave and study to become a doctor like his father.

The next time his curse came to the surface was a late April day five years ago. This time, he was told that no one had been harmed, but he got a reputation, and so he had to leave his home town, Shiganshina.

Eren had been training ever since then under the Squad's supervision, but accidents still happened every once and then. Of course his presence couldn't stay a secret forever, soon everyone in town knew he was different. He felt the gazes on his back every time he crossed the streets, but fortunately no one talked about his case openly.

Mikasa took his hand softly, her breath warm against his olive skin.

"Eren, your father told me great things." She looked up at him, biting her lower lip. Eren raised his eyebrows with concern and surprise.

"I… I'm not ill. I'm expectant."

Eren's jaw dropped. He couldn't say a word but stare at Mikasa for a few minutes. He reached his hand, gently touching her abdomen, then looked at her again. His sight became blurry, he swallowed.

"So… we did it? We really did it?"

_What if our child will be cursed just like me? What if they'll be a freak like me? What if…_

"Eren."

Mikasa's serious, firm voice pulled him back to reality.

"Are you... worried?"

Eren turned his gaze away, and nodded. "Yeah. I mean, of course I'm happy we did it, but… I just don't want my children to inherit this thing and have a life like mine. And I don't mean the part with you and Armin and the guys from the Training Corps or the Squad, I mean the part where I'm destroying whatever I love. I mean hurting the people who are important to me… and being hated for it."

He smoothed Mikasa's hair from her face, revealing her terrible scar.

"You know I've never hated you for it. I've long forgiven you. And so has—"

"I know, I know!" Eren cut her off. "But do you really think I don't resent myself for what happened to you guys?!" He sighed. "I wasn't a good friend and now I'm afraid of being a father."

Mikasa touched his chin, making him look her straight in the eye.

"You really think I'm not afraid of being a mother? I'd be frightened of raising a child if I didn't know I'm not alone. You're here. Armin's here, your parents are here, and all our friends are here to help us. We can do it."

* * *

"Arlert, are you okay?"

Lance Corporal Rivaille's voice felt like cold water after a long sleep. Armin flinched, his eyes wide as he looked at his superior. Hanji and Moblit had something better to do, so it was only the two of them in the office. It was getting warmer and warmer outside, soon it would be too hot for him to wear his uniform jacket.

"Yes?!"

"You were dazing off all day. Are you all right?"

Armin dropped his eyes. No, he wasn't all right. Not after Eren announcing marrying Mikasa in a week. Not after hearing Mikasa was pregnant. He knew he should be happy about it, but he just couldn't help feeling down. He wanted to cry, he wanted to punch something, he wanted to scream.

He was jealous, and he hated himself for it.

"Yes, I'm… I'm okay."

Rivaille was examining him for a few minutes with his narrow, sleepless eyes, then gave a deep sigh and took his seat next to the younger man.

"Armin." It was the first time he's ever called him his first name. "I know I'm not your father or whatever, but as your superior officer, I can't let you work while you're a fucking mess. What's wrong?"

Armin stayed silent for a minute.

"I was thinking about that titan," he lied. "I-I mean…" He needed to make something up. "I have the feeling I've met him before."

As soon as he said it, he realized he wasn't lying. Yes, he had seen that man, even though he couldn't recall where and when.

Rivaille raised his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Yes, I just… don't remember it all. All I know is that I'm sure I've seen his face somewhere else before. He was younger, but I know it's him."

"I see. If you remember anything else, let me know immediately."

A few minutes of awkward silence fell on them. Lance Corporal crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned against the wall next to the four military patches pinned on a wooden panel. Four patches from the uniform of the people whom the Squad had lost so far.

Four, not five. Armin remembered it was because when they found Ilse Langnar's corpse, her uniform had already been cut into pieces and the patch from the sleeve was missing.

_It's most likely the captured titan took it. But why? Why did he need it?_

_We still don't know a thing about them. Not even after having examined Eren for years._

He closed his eyes. It was in fact easier to him to accept that his best childhood friend was a titan than to Eren himself. Never before then and since then had he seen Eren as broken as he had been the day he realized he wasn't human.

"Do you love him?"

Rivaille's low voice made him flinch. His throat went dry. He wanted to deny, but he couldn't say a word. The older man gave him a faint, bitter smile.

"It's okay. You really think you're the only one who's fallen for those nice blue eyes?"

* * *

The girl Madame Magnolia gave him – what was her name? Niifa? – was still a youngster, but she knew well already how to use her body to please Hanji. He lost his sense of time halfway, but he felt like he was ready to spend the rest of the day with this pretty freckled brunette. Hanji turned his head to look at her as they were wheezing heavily after an especially long and exhausting round. Niifa sure was one fine woman, and without his glasses Hanji could even mistake her for Ilse.

But that was exactly why he had chosen her. The first time he had visited this place was the day after Ilse told him she was infertile, but the moment he saw the girls offering themselves at the door, he ran back to her, confessing. However, Ilse didn't get mad.

"It's okay," she had said instead. "Just because I feel insecure about it, I don't want to hold you back."

He had always respected Ilse's will, but he couldn't help thinking about her whenever he had sex ever since then.

He hated the moment he had to leave, putting his glasses back on.

The brunette next to him sneaked slightly closer, her breath felt warm on his chest.

"Hey. Is something wrong?" Her voice was soft.

Hanji gently pushed her away reaching for his glasses. It was time to wake up.

"No, nothing. I had a great time but I should leave now. Thank you."

He walked down the streets lost in thought. The news about Eren and Mikasa brought up questions in him, and even when he finally found an answer to one, it just lead to more and more doubt.

When he had brought up that Eren should let him check on them every once and then, his response was rather unfriendly, and it left a bad taste in Hanji's mouth.

_He's different, and I thought it meant I can treat him as if he wasn't human in the least._

He used to believe titans just learnt to simulate human emotions, but now he had the feeling he was wrong all along.

Had the female type titan ever felt down? Had she ever loved someone?

Had the titan whose skull he had cleaned free of all flesh been scared? Had he missed any relatives?

_Has Bertholdt Hoover's tears been real?_

Also, the possibility was still there that Eren was indeed pretending. He couldn't tell. He still didn't know a thing about titans.

"Hey, Hanji!"

A woman's voice called out to him, pulling him back to reality. The woman came running to him. It was Ilse's old friend, a soldier from the Garrison. Hanji started talking to her and hanging out with her after Ilse's death. It had been a tragedy for both of them, and it got them really close.

"Hey, Maria. Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"

The woman swept her black hair away from her face, smiling. "My shift ended less than half an hour ago. You know, I can go home earlier, I can't leave the children alone all day."

Maria had gotten married years ago. Ilse had been one of her bridesmaid, and since then she had given birth to two little girls.

"I thought you agreed on taking care of them together with Solm. How come you're already finished when he's still busy?"

Maria grabbed his shoulder, pulling him down the street. "Let's just go somewhere, I don't wanna talk about it here. Your place's near, right?"

"I haven't had a place in years, Maria."

"Then let's just find an alley or anything."

They ended up in a dirty pub somewhere near the town's outskirts with only a few guests already asleep on their tables or the floor.

Maria crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knees. She gave a deep sigh.

"We're afraid. Everything's chaotic because of that titan incident last time. Rumors are already spreading like plague, and soon Commander Smith will be released from the hospital with his arm chewed off. Solm barely comes home lately, so I have to take care of the girls myself, even though I have my own problems. I guess you already know what's going on at the Survey Corps, well, now imagine the same except terrified citizens visit you every minute to demand answers. The Garrison's afraid of what will happen if people see Commander and finally realize titans are actually real."

"Madness everywhere, huh?"

Maria scratched her nose, nodding.

"Angel is desperate, too. He's sure Lance Corporal failed because the equipment he made wasn't good enough. I tried to convince him he's wrong, but he's still blaming himself."

"He's only eighteen, after all," Hanji adjusted his glasses. "Even Rivaille isn't over it yet. We can't just expect him to wake up the next morning and be all happy."

"I know. I feel sorry for him. That equipment was his everything."

"Yes. Maybe I should pay him a visit someday."

Maria shook her head. "No use. He's locked himself in his room and all he does is crying and sleeping when he's too tired to cry any more."

"You can't leave him just like that, either. I'll go over to his place tomorrow."

Maria bit her lower lip, looking the man sitting ahead of her straight in the eyes.

"Hanji? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I heard a titan escaped from the prison that night. Is it true?"

Hanji hesitated, but then he decided lying wouldn't do any good. Soon the wanting posters would be everywhere, he couldn't keep it a secret forever.

"Yes. We assume he's weak, though, so he shouldn't be much harm."

"So he wasn't alone?"

"What? I didn't say—"

"If he's weak, he probably didn't escape alone. Also, how about the Jaeger boy? He's a titan, too, isn't he?"

"People don't like him, it's true, but that's only because he's from Shiganshina. Nobody likes southern people."

"There are whispers on the streets, Hanji. If they find out we really are hiding a titan in the military… no, if they find out we hide a titan that can't even control himself… he can't stay here anymore. Not in the town, in the country."

"He… he can control himself."

"I've been taking care of his experiment results for a while now, I know he can hold himself back. But do you really think that's enough?"

"What do you mean?"

"No matter what you're talking about, if you hold something back, one day you just won't be able to hide it anymore. The longer you try to ignore it, the harder it will break out when you've gone too far."


	6. Cursed cage

It was the beginning of August. Nights were already getting longer, but days were still hot, though it was obvious that fall would soon come with its cold winds and dim lights.

Annie was leaning on the wooden railing of the cottage's terrace. Four months ago, Bertholdt had been trying to stand up and walk grabbing this railing. Now, even though he still got tired easily, he was already running long circles in the woods around the cottage. Annie almost felt proud every time she saw him returning and passing in front of her. She had been thinking he would give up soon, but Bertholdt turned out to be really hard-working and there were even times he had to be dragged into his bed after he collapsed from exhaustion. Annie appreciated his hard work, but despised his overzealousness.

Bertholdt appeared again, and Annie called out to him.

"What took you so long? Better not be slacking off, boy!"

He only gave her a quick nod before getting deep into the woods again. Standing straight again, he was a lot taller than Reiner, and slim with skin that had already gotten back its original dark tan. Even his hair had a healthy raven color.

"How's he doing?" Reiner stepped behind her, then leaned on the railing next to Annie.

"Actually, he's a lot better than I expected. We can probably start his titan training as soon as tomorrow."

"Don't you think that's a bit early? He still looks pretty thin to me."

Annie tilted her head as she looked up at the man beside her.

"He's lanky. Not everyone can be as buff as you. He might even overcome you at fighting skills."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Annie shrugged. "Think about it. You're slow, but you can use your weight when it comes to hand-to hand combat. I'm tiny, but I'm fast. He's tall and slim, maybe he could make the best of both types of hand-to-hand techniques. He might not be as fast as I am or as strong as you are, but he can combine and it does mean a lot."

Reiner seemed to be giving it a thought, then nodded.

"I see. But that's still a lot of time until he gets there."

"I didn't say it'd happen tomorrow. What will happen tomorrow, though, is his other kind of training."

Reiner furrowed his brows in concern. "Are you sure he's ready?"

"Ready enough." Annie swept her bangs back from her face. "It's enough if he learns the basics now, but fall's getting closer every day, and I sure don't want him running around naked when it gets cold out here."

"He's a highlander, isn't he? He can take the cold."

"I really hope you didn't mean it."

Reiner didn't answer her.

"So it starts tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Just tell him the basics and…"

"No way, I can't be here tomorrow. There's this guy in the village and he's been—"

Annie frowned. "You want to leave me alone with him?"

"Why, what's wrong with him?"

_He's huge. He'll hurt me. He'll do the same things as Berik did the moment you looked away._

She swallowed.

"He's creepy. He doesn't talk or show any emotion. Freaks me the fuck out."

"Weird. He does talk quite a lot with me." Reiner raised his eyebrows, his gaze fixed on the trees before them. "He still has issues expressing himself verbally, but at least he's trying. He's a hard-working guy."

"Indeed. But that won't change the fact that he's creepy. Have you ever seen him smiling?"

Before Reiner could reply, Bertholdt showed up again, panting and covered in sweat. Annie waved to him.

"Hey, let's call it a day." She picked up the flask of water from beside her feet and threw it to Bertholdt. "Off to bed with you. I don't want you a bit tired tomorrow."

* * *

"So, uh, I believe you don't really know anything about what we should be doing now, right?" Annie took her seat on the opposite side of the table with her back straight as if trying to keep a distance from Bertholdt. Her hands were the only signs of her embarrassment beside her uncertain way of talking as she kept wringing them nervously.

It was only the two of them after Reiner took off early in the morning to visit an acquaintance – or at least Bertholdt had been told so. He couldn't know since Annie let him sleep for as long as he felt like and it had almost been noon by the time he woke up.

He swallowed, scratching the back of his head, before finally getting himself to replying Annie's question.

"Uh… titan stuff… right?"

"Well, yeah. Kind of." Annie sighed, and let her head fall back. "Fuck," she muttered, "I shouldn't be doing this. I can't do this, it's Reiner's part of the job to teach you."

"I-I'm sorry." He didn't know if Annie could hear him. Bertholdt didn't like his voice, it still sounded strange and unusual to him so he tried to stay silent as much as he could. Sadly, this wasn't a situation that allowed him to avoid speaking at all.

Annie gave a long, deep sigh. "No, no, don't apologize. Not your fault. He has at least a dozen boyfriends all over the country he needs to visit every once and then. He should just keep it in his pants sometimes…"

"But… isn't he…?"

"What? A guy?" Annie folded her arms. "Yeah, forgot you don't know stuff like this. Sometimes it happens. There are guys who like guys like Reiner, girls who like girls like Ymir, and I hear there are even people who like both."

_Yeah, now I remember. Didn't Ymir say she just got married…? And wasn't she talking about another woman?_

"And you?"

"Me?" Annie looked slightly surprised. "I aim for boys. Well, I used to, at least. Let's just say my little romance with Berik didn't end well. He loved someone I clearly wasn't, and he tried to make me that person. And me? I was a goddamn fool."

Bertholdt hesitated for a moment. He wanted to make Annie feel better, but he wasn't sure how.

"I… I hope one day you'll… find someone who loves you. For who you are."

Annie smiled, and Bertholdt realized it was the first honest smile he'd ever gotten from her.

"I haven't ever heard you talking so much. But thanks. Even though whoever can do that would probably be some desperate, hopeless, crazy person. " Annie shook her head. "But that's not what we're here for. We need to talk about shapeshifting, right? Let's get down to it."

Annie's hand shot forward, aiming at Bertholdt's right eye with a finger, he barely had time to realize what was happening and slapping her hand away.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, as if she was the one to ask anything first.

"W-well, you wanted to—"

"Yes, but why did you react like this?" Annie didn't wait for a response. "You realized I was going for your eye, and knew it would hurt if I got it. So you decided to defend yourself. Roughly, this is what happened. This is how you normally react as a human. You know pain, and you know how to control your body so that you can make it move however you want to. We, titans, don't really feel pain, and as we shapeshift, we also need to deal with controlling a different body. You need to bend your mind to a new way of moving. And that's the tricky part.

"As for now," she continued, "you won't do anything difficult. First, you need to learn to tame yourself. When you bleed, you normally transform, but with willpower, you can hold it back. The key is to concentrate on the pain you feel and what your body itself feels like."

It didn't actually sound difficult, but then, Annie added, "But before that, you most know what it feels like when you're doing it wrong."

* * *

Bertholdt passed out right after the cut opened on his hand and he felt his warm blood flood all over his palm. It wasn't painful, maybe only for a moment. Instead, it felt surprisingly nice, as if finally letting go of something that had only restrained him so far.

He didn't know for how long he'd been asleep, but when he finally regained consciousness, it was late night already. Somebody – most likely Annie – carried him to his bed and put a piece of wet cloth on his forehead.

_What happened?_

_She took me out and cut my hand. _

He gave a deep sigh.

_I don't really agree with her teaching methods, but I don't believe I could tell her that._

His body felt heavy. He could vaguely remember what happened right after Annie had cut his hand, but he didn't want to think too hard about it. The pleasure he had felt sent a cold running down his spine, and the voice he had heard made him shiver.

_Skin shouldn't cover you._

Had it been his voice?

_You're raw meat and bare nerves._

Yes, he was sure it had been.

_Tear it off!_

Had he really gotten rid of his skin? He shook his head. He didn't even want to think about it. It was crazy.

Something moved on his right, a flash of blue eyes clearly visible even in the dark. Did they glow?

As he carefully turned his head, he saw Annie's tiny figure sitting on the bed next to his, legs pulled up to her chest as she was heaving wearily. Then her breathing slowed down, and she lifted her head to look around, as if trying to figure out where she was, but that wasn't what caught Bertholdt's attention.

Her eyes were indeed glowing like a pair of icy lanterns in the dark. He had seen it before, but didn't believe it. There was no way her eyes could glow in the dark, right?

Bertholdt took the cloth from his forehead and slowly sat up. His body felt heavy and at the same time way too light, it was hard for him to move. Annie's eyes found him, the pair of icy lanterns was fixed right on him, wide open and never blinking.

_Have I ever seen her blink?_

The more he thought about it, the stranger he found Annie.

However, as far as he could tell from her wide-open eyes and still heavy breathing, Annie was upset, what more scared. She didn't even seem to recognize him.

_What if she attacks me?_

"A… Annie?" His voice sounded hoarse and even more unfamiliar than usually.

For a few minutes, neither he nor Annie made the slightest move. Their gazes were fixed on each other, as if they were waiting for the other one to take action first. Bertholdt was almost sure he'd have ran off long ago had he been in control of his body, but he wasn't sure he could make his legs move properly with his current condition.

_If she attacks me, I'm dead. I can't fight her. I couldn't even if I could move._

He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes as he let it out. If he had to die – and he felt like he would indeed die within moments –, at least he wanted it to happen quickly and without having to see Annie's cold eyes before having his flesh torn up.

"…it's you." Her voice was low and weak as she finally spoke with a deep sigh. "Sorry. Did I startle you?"

Bertholdt opened his eyes. Annie's icy gaze was turned away from him, and it looked tired and empty.

He cleared his throat.

"What… what happened?"

"Nothing. Just a nightmare, nothing more." Annie paused before speaking again, changing the subject. "Are you feeling good? You've been asleep for three days now. Must feel like shit, right? You lost control. I had to bite your neck. Feels terrible, but it's gonna be over soon."

"I… I lost control?"

"Yes. You seemed to be losing consciousness right after I cut you, and your titan was set free. Tore off your skin and shit like that. What a fucking monster. Fuck Reiner, I'm not doing this."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's really not your fault. It's that fucker. He knows I've never had a proper training and yet he just goes off to get local guys laid."

Hearing this surprised Bertholdt. As far as he could tell from what he'd heard, Annie was pretty good at shapeshifting. He was sure their trio with Berik and Reiner had always been training together, sharing experiences and tricks. He was just about to ask Annie when she spoke again.

"Bertholdt, are you feeling sleepy or tired at all? Would you mind staying awake with me?"

"Something's wrong?"

Annie hesitated before answering, her voice barely audible.

"Whenever I fall asleep, I dream of a beast. Every night, it's feeding on me. It eats up my body, it breaks my bones and it drinks up my spilled blood. I can hear its panting and smell its stink. I can feel its teeth tearing into my flesh but I can't do anything but wait for it to finally finish me. But it never does. And then, I realize it."

Bertholdt swallowed, afraid of the answer as he asked in a cracking voice, "Realize what?"

Annie didn't reply right away. When she did, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I realize that I am the beast, and I'm feeding on myself." Her voice cracked. "I see it every damn night and I can't get rid of it. I'm tired of it all. So… can you stay awake with me tonight?"

Bertholdt hesitated. He wasn't particularly sleepy, and he didn't want to just leave Annie alone. He'd had the opportunity to experience what it was like to be alone with his nightmares and he didn't care who it was, he didn't want anyone to feel the same.

"Yeah. Just please, make some light."

Annie lit a lantern and put it on the floor, leaving a safe distance from the wooden beds. She sat next to Bertholdt, but not too close, pulling her legs up to her chest. She was naked, her skin sparkling of cold sweat.

Bertholdt awkwardly pulled away, still finding it difficult to move.

"Slow down, your body's not used to shapeshifting yet." She paused, taking a few minutes break before speaking again. "Bertholdt?"

"What?"

"Do you think I'm a beast?"

"No, you're not a beast."

"Then what am I?"

"You're… you're Annie. A titan shifter, just like me."

"Doesn't that make me a beast?"

Bertholdt let his head fall back, sweeping his hair from his face. It had gotten long lately, almost covering his eyes.

If Annie was a titan, and as such also a beast, wouldn't that make him a beast, too? For months, for years he did believe he was a monster, and only now did he start to realize what it actually meant. Was he a monster just because someone said so? If not, what did make him a monster? Whatever killed his sister wasn't him, it wasn't Bertholdt Hoover, the boy, it was the titan that took over him. The monster was that thing. It wasn't him.

_And if I tame that thing, will that mean that I have overcome the beast I once was?_

Maybe that was it. Maybe if he told people there was nothing to be afraid of about him, it would be okay. Maybe he was what he told himself he was. Maybe he just had to make people believe.

Maybe if Annie…

"A beast wouldn't have helped me to stand on my feet again," he answered finally. "A beast wouldn't have taught me to speak again. I don't believe you're a beast."

Annie turned her face away so that Bertholdt couldn't see the expression she made.

"Is that what you really think?"

Bertholdt nodded firmly. "Yes."

"…thank you."

She moved, slowly pulling closer to the man and resting her head on his shoulder. Her hair felt wet and warm.

"Is it okay if I stay like this? Just for a minute," Annie whispered.

"Yes."

"You… I have to apologize. You're not the person I thought you were. I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

"You're a nice guy. I'm sitting here defenseless by your side. Other men wouldn't have just let me do this. But you're no other man. It's actually nice to be around you."

"Thanks, I guess?"

Annie stayed silent for a while, then suddenly took in a deep breath.

"Bertholdt, what was your father like? Did you like him?"

Bertholdt flinched, pulling up a leg to his chest and fixing his gaze on his toes. No one had ever asked him about his father. Nor had anyone told a lot about him.

"It's hard to like someone you've never met."

"Left you?"

"…no."

"Oh… sorry."

Bertholdt shook his head. It didn't really matter. His father had died months before his birth, he didn't even realize he should have a father until the bullies who were after him brought it up. When he asked his sister about it, her reply was a simple shrug. He left one day and didn't come back, she had told him. When he asked his mother about it, she smiled and told him his father would be home soon. Only when he asked the elderly lady living near them did he get the answer he'd been looking for.

"He left and cut his throat," he muttered almost unconsciously. "No one knew why."

"I see. Sorry." Annie pulled away, laying back on the bed. "I hated my father. I was planning on killing him for years." She chuckled. "He said he loved me, but I don't know if it was true or not. You see, he wanted a boy. Instead, he got me and lost my mother. He didn't really care that I wasn't born a boy, though. When he found out I was different, he did his best to teach me to control my power, but it's not like an ordinary human like him knew a lot about it. He ended up dying while I ran away from our fellow villagers. Sometimes I think I should be grateful to him, but then I remember all the pain he caused me. You don't hurt someone you love. This is not how it should work."

Annie paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was somewhat lower and emptier.

"Berik was the same. He taught me things I had no idea about and told me a thousand times how much he loved me. And that I should love him back. And that I should do things for him in exchange. I should do this, I should do that. I used to be a whore, but I'm starting to feel like it was better for me then. At least I was aware of being humiliated."

"I'm sorry."

"Hm? What are you apologizing for?"

"Men are… well, assholes." Not that Bertholdt knew that much about the world, but when he remembered his childhood, boys or men had barely ever done anything good for him. For the first time in his life he even resented his father.

"Yeah," Annie chuckled. "Men are pigs, and I hate them. Except probably you and Reiner. It's not that I like you two in particular, but I don't hate you either."

"Can I take it as a compliment?"

"You can take it as whatever you want to."

"Well then, thank you."

Annie sighed, and her voice gave Bertholdt the impression that she was smiling.

"And I thank you for staying up with me. It means a lot. Really. Thanks."

* * *

**Author's note: **The voice inside Bertl's head was citing the poem "The Terrifying Angel by Miklós Radnóti, English translation was done by Steven Polgar, S. Berg and S.J. Marks.


End file.
